I Know That Face
by nevertothethird
Summary: Veronica and Wallace are roommates in Chicago but are heading home to Neptune for the holidays. She encounters an old friend who is keeping secrets, but she has one or two of her own. Not to mention the whole sexual tension thing and an acre of history that creeps up between said friend from time to time.
1. Chapter 1

_Veronica slowly opens her eyes and looks around at the serene atmosphere of the pool. She's on a lounge chair in the center of the pool completely alone as hundreds of flowers lazily float around her. The sun is warm but she's not sweating and she knows that she could lie out here all day and never get thirsty. If she did, she'd just drink the water from the pool. She guesses it would taste sweet. Looking down she sees she is wearing a strapless red satin cocktail dress. Veronica blinks her eyes in confusion. _

_Why am I wearing this dress? How did I get here? Where is Lily? Lily is always here. Why isn't she here?_

_All of these questions rush through her brain in a flash, but she's so tired. She can't focus on figuring out the answers. In fact, the more she tries to make sense of the dress, and where Lily is, and whose pool she's in, the more tired she becomes. So she closes her eyes again trying to get a few more minutes of sleep. A voice interrupts her doze and before she opens her eyes she smiles. That voice is unmistakable. _

"_Veronica Mars, truth or dare."_

_Veronica opens her eyes and looks at Lily Kane in her barely there red bikini, mischief in her eyes. Veronica would know that look anywhere. Regardless of whether Veronica selects truth or dare she knows she's sunk because Lily has a plan. Veronica takes a breath and answers, "Truth."_

"_When is my birthday?"_

_Veronica props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at Lily. She's a little surprised. She wasn't expecting that. "Lily, what kind of a question is that?"_

_Lily harumphs Veronica's criticism and responds, "It's my question. So, answer please. Unless you don't remember when my birthday is."_

"_Of course I do, it's…it's…um…" Again, the harder Veronica focuses, the harder it is for her to recall this seemingly small but oh so significant detail. _

"_Okay, follow up question. How did you and I meet?"_

_Veronica looks at Lily panic stricken as Lily lays her head back down with a satisfied grin on her face. "That's what I thought. So much for a promise."_

"_I haven't forgotten you, Lily. Really, I haven't."_

"_Actions speak louder than words Veronica Mars. We used to be important to each other Veronica. We all used to be important to you. But I'm dead, Donut's MIA, and Logan…"_

_Veronica looks down at her dress again and it's turned into a knee length, a-line yellow cotton sun dress. Although the fabric looks like it should be light weight, it's becoming increasingly heavy and Veronica can feel it sinking her lounge chair. The water from the pool starts to come up on her chair, and the harder she pulls at the fabric of the dress to get it off of her, the heavier it becomes. She looks to Lily and pleads, "Lily, what should I do?" She starts to panic, knowing that if she doesn't get this dress off of her, her she is going to drown. _

"_I can't tell you anymore Veronica. You have to decide for yourself. What do you want to do?"_

_Veronica knows she doesn't want to wear this dress. She rips it off of her in one fail swoop, revealing a red bikini identical to Lily's. Lily grins at Veronica, but Veronica isn't finished. "I don't want to be here anymore, Lily. I can't keep coming back here." And without letting her best friend say a word, Veronica jumps off the lounge chair and into the pool._

Veronica wakes up with a start and instinctively looks down at what she's wearing. Grey sweat pants. Black tank top. The back of her neck is wet, but she is fairly certain it's a result of the cold sweat she broke into from the dream and not having recently gone swimming. Rolling over onto her side she turns on her bedside lamp and looks at her alarm clock. 2:15 AM. _Well,_ a_s good as time as any to start studying_. She sits up, takes a long drink of water from the full glass on her night stand and stands up, giving her eyes time to adjust to the light.

Veronica has dreamt countless variations of the same dream over the past few years. It's always her and Lily together floating in a pool of flowers. Usually she's content to stay in the pool floating alongside her best friend forever. She's never jumped off the raft before. That was new.

As Veronica searches her room for her books, she tries to make sense of it all. _It's been eight years since Lily died, six years since Duncan fled the country, four years since Logan and I dated, and yet somehow I always end up back in Neptune in my dreams._

Having found her cardiovascular physiology text book and her medical ethics case studies, Veronica finds her favorite pair of slippers and slides her foot into the back of Stewie's head from _Family Guy_, and she plods her way into the living room, turning on the tall living room lamp as she goes. Half of her study supplies are still splayed out on the coffee table: pencils, highlighters, 100 different colors of post-it notes and post-it flags. She's developed a complicated series of mnemonic devises and methods that only make sense to her. She sets her text books down on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, being extra careful not to wake up her roommate.

Veronica waits as the water begins to boil and muses that perhaps one of the reasons she's one of the top students in her class is because few of her classmates frequently study between the hours of 2am-5am. Turning off the stove top before the kettle begins to whistle and pouring the steaming water into her mug, she practices in a quiet whisper, "Veronica Mars, M.D." and almost bursts out laughing at how absurd that sounds. But, medical school was a means to an end. Sometimes she still had a hard time believing she was even in medical school, but the hundreds of dollars in text books on her bookshelf were a constant reminder.

She assumes her standard study position: couch cushions properly stacked up against the arm of the couch, allowing her to remain upright while extending her legs out in front of her. Cup of tea placed on the corner of the coffee table closest to her, and her post-it flags and three highlighters poised over her text book. Green highlighter meant she needed to make note-cards from the information. Blue highlighter meant it directly correlated to a future assignment. Pink highlighter related to big concepts she'd copy into her half sized notebook so she could work on committing them to memory without having to bring her text book with her. It was slow. It was tedious. But it was worth it. If her time as a PI taught her anything, it's that the slow and seemingly tedious actions were often the most significant.

Her living room study set up was perfect, but it had taken her several months her first year of medical school to get it just right. She discovered several things over the course over those first months: 1) while 2am-5am was prime Veronica Mars study time, without fail she'd fall asleep between 5am-5:30am. Propping herself up against the arm of the couch prevented her from waking up with a crick in her neck. 2) Switching highlighters and colors of flags and colors of notecards and colors of pens she used to write on notecards forced her to stay on high alert which made sure she didn't lose focus while studying. 3) The tea had to go on the corner of the coffee table lest she spill the full cup on herself (which she had done approximately three times), or kick it over forgetting she had placed it on the floor (which she had done more times than she could count.)

Currently in her second year of medical school, she realized that if med school had taught her anything, it was that systems had a place, and were in fact necessary to succeed. Veronica yawned and looked at her watch. _Uh, oh_. _4:45 AM. Better cram in a few more minutes when I can_. She focused her eyes on her case studies as she moved her lips along with the words, reading silently to herself. _Should lifestyle factors be considered in the allocation of scarce lifesaving medical resources? _Veronica lost focus for a second as her mind instantly jumped to her mother, the poster child for poor lifestyle factors if there ever was one. Turning her attention back to her book she thought to herself, _If Lianne Mars, noted alcoholic, needed a liver transplant, would I recommend that she be on the donor list?_ It was hard to say whether it was the weight of the question or the weight of her thoughts, but without her conscious knowledge, her blue highlighter slipped out of her grasp and her head softly touched the pillows propped up behind her just as the analog clock on her stove turned to 5:12 AM.

She was woken up by a hand extending a cup of coffee under her nose and a low "Tsk, tsk, tsk." Veronica opened one eye with a groan and looked at the person quietly scolding her. She propped herself up, took the cup of coffee and inhaled before closing her eyes once more.

"Seriously, Veronica, this is getting out of hand."

"What time is it?"

"7:00am. How much sleep did you get?"

"More than most nights. Maybe four hours total?"

"Come on, get up. You have to get out the door in 30 minutes or you'll be late to class."

"But…coffee?" she said, sticking her lip out and giving her best pathetic whimper.

"I'll get you a straw and you can drink it in the shower."

Veronica glared at her best friend and gave a groan, melodramatically standing up and taking one step towards the bathroom before reeling around and fixing Wallace with a stare. "8:00am classes…"

"Are the root of all evil. And just a way for the power hungry administration to break down the week willed students." Wallace finished for her.

Veronica smirked and tilted her chin up communicating that she had yet to begun her tirade. "Exactly, but…"

"But, you are Veronica Mars. And you're stronger than them and you will not be thwarted by their attempts to crush your spirit. Come on, it's the home stretch. One more final and you're done."

Veronica looked both a combination of impressed and bemused. "So, you've heard this speech of mine before?"

"Every day for the past two years. You need some new material."

"I'll think of some when I get some sleep."

"Mush! Mush!" Wallace shouted pretending to crack a whip in Veronica's direction. Veronica immediately jumped and turned around making noises like a young pup that had just gotten caught chewing up her mom's shoe.

Veronica closed the door behind her, took a large gulp of her coffee, marveling for the approximately two-hundredth time that year at how Wallace is able to prepare it perfectly, and then sat her mug on the bathroom counter beside the sink. Pointing at the coffee she said, "I'll be back for you in a minute," challenging the mug to disagree with her. Looking in the mirror, she moved her head a little closer to get a better look at her reflection as she pulled the skin under her eyes taught, noticing that the dark circles under her eyes were getting a little out of control. "Get it together Veronica Mars" she muttered to herself, pulling back from the mirror. As she pulled back, her eyes immediately shot to the bottom right corner of her mirror where Lily Kane was staring back at her. Lily was perched lazily on the edge of Veronica's bathtub and shaking her head slowly at her, almost perfectly replicating the same "tsk, tsk, tsk" sound Wallace had made just moments earlier.

"So if you can't keep going back there, where will you go, Veronica Mars?"

At the sound of Lily's voice, Veronica whipped her head around and stared at the edge of the tub, now Lily-less. She turned back towards the mirror. No Lily in sight, but if possible, the circles under her eyes managed to look even more pronounced. Veronica turned around and pulled the shower curtain back, turning the water on to start heating up. She turned back towards the mirror and this time it was herself who was shaking its head in disapproval. "Hello, my name is Veronica Mars and I'll be your doctor today. Yes, I recently spent some time in a psychiatric facility, but I hope that doesn't cause you to believe that I am ill qualified to handle your care."

Veronica was snapped back into reality by a voice on the other side of the door. "Stop talking to yourself, you crack pot. This train must leave the station in 25 minutes."

"You don't have to be rude about it!" With a sigh, Veronica opened the door to her medicine cabinet and pulled out her tooth brush and tooth paste. She took one more sip of coffee, and then set to rid herself of the terrible combination of morning breath mixed with coffee.

Less than an hour later, Veronica sat in Room 204 of Slavin Hall for the last time that semester. She looked around and grinned at her classmates, marveling at how all of them handled the stress of medical school in vastly different ways. Some definitely better than others. You had the front row students, sitting with stacks of notecards, quizzing themselves just one more time before the professor arrived. You had the back row students who subsisted on mostly of caffeine and over the counter products combined in potentially dangerous ways. _Gosh!, s_he thought, noticing the twitchiness of one particular student, m_edical students have got to be some of the most self-destructive people in the entire world. _ Veronica was a third row student, meaning that surprisingly she was one of the most well-adjusted in the bunch. Sure she drank more coffee than Howard Schultz himself, and she consistently got four hours of sleep a night, but looking around her she couldn't but help think, _I showered, my socks match, and I'm wearing clean underwear, what more can I expect?_

Dr. Jeffers entered the lecture hall, and the already quiet room became deathly silent. "Is that fear I smell? So early in the morning?" He grabbed the stack of exams out of his brief case and sat it on the desk before stopping at the front row and smirking at all the students putting away their flash cards. "If you don't know the material by now, there's really no hope for you." He then proceeded to the end of each row handing the first person sitting there a stack of exams, indicating he wanted them to pass the exam to the next student in their row. As the slow and methodical rhythm of a much less exciting version of "ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall" transpired, Dr. Jeffers gave his final pieces of instruction.

"You have two hours to complete the final. I trust you've all brought a blue book. If you haven't, you have approximately forty-five seconds to beg, borrow, or steal one from one of your classmates. The exam is made up of four different essay questions. The final essay requires you to develop your own credo for medical ethics and defend it using examples from readings and course lecture. You must support your work, anecdotal evidence is not sufficient. Any questions?" Dr. Jeffers paused for approximately five seconds and four hands shot into the air. "No questions? Well then, you may begin…now."

Veronica's neighbor, a pretty red-haired girl that Veronica had talked to once or twice while having drinks with classmates, turned to Veronica as she passed her the stack of exams. "You ready for this?"

Veronica gave a glib chuckle, and continued to pass the stack answering, "We'll see. Good luck!"

"You too." Veronica paused for just a moment to take a look at her. _Becca, right? Her name is Becca? For crying out loud Veronica, you've had eight classes with her. You have GOT to work on your people skills._

Veronica turned her attention to the exam and for at least the fiftieth time that semester chided herself for thinking medical school was a good choice. _What am I doing? Medical ethics? If I had known becoming a medical examiner would actually require me to, you know, go to medical school I would have seriously reconsidered my options._ With one final sigh, a part of her wishing that all of medical school had been an elaborate dream she was about to wake up from, she read the first essay question.

"In light of developments in 21st century medicine, how would you revise or modify the Hippocratic Oath? Support your conclusions referencing at least three different ethical studies."

_Sheesh. Maybe I'll start with the next one? _Veronica read all four essay questions, and all promised to be challenging in their own right. She had no choice but to dive in, but she was having a hard time focusing. Veronica shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. She looked at the clock and realized that she had wasted seven minutes of the two hours. Two precious minutes had been spent trying to remember the name of the girl sitting next to her. _Bethany. It was definitely Bethany. Or maybe Brittany?_ For another three minutes she mentally prepared a satisfactory argument for her dad as to why medical school was not going to work out, and she had spent the past two minutes rubbing her tongue over her teeth trying to remember if she had flossed that morning. Figuring that zone out time was over, she picked up her pencil, flicked her nose with her thumb like a boxer about to enter the ring, and set to work.

After putting the period on her final sentence of essay question four, Veronica looked up to see she had thirty minutes remaining. She put her pencil down and read over her work, making a few corrections here and there to grammar and punctuation, but overall she was satisfied with what she had accomplished. She looked around her classroom and saw that about two-thirds of her classmates were still working. All the back row kids had turned in their exams and undoubtedly had gone to Costco to buy cases of Five Hour Energy in preparation for next semester. The front row kids were still there, and she knew they'd use every last second to complete their work. Third row Veronica Mars, on the other hand, knew she had aced this exam, and had no problem leaving class 15 minutes before her time was up.

Veronica put her pencil in her messenger bag, placed the exam in the middle of her blue book, and gave a half wave to _Bailey? It starts with a B and ends with a Y, I am certain_, before heading up to turn in her final.

The one thing about medical school that she still couldn't get over was how proud she was of the work she was accomplishing. She had never worked harder in her life, but each time she got an exam returned to her with the wonderful and amazing "A" it gave her a shot of motivation to keep going. She knew some of her friends questioned her sudden change in plans. Transferring to UCLA before her sophomore year, declaring pre-med, and then moving to Chicago for medical school seemed impulsive and like it would undoubtedly fail, but Veronica was more motivated to make this work than anything else she had ever put her mind to.

After her internship with the FBI the summer after her freshman year of college she went back to Neptune to stay with her dad for a few weeks before the fall term at Hearst began. She figured she'd earn a little extra cash and help him get caught up with some of his cases. She selected a file for an open and shut cheating husband case. Get the money shot, show the money shot to the wife, get the cash. Unfortunately, this was not your typical cheating husband case. After being ran off the side of the road having been made taking photos of the sleazy interlude at the Camelot, and then having a gun held to her head by the mistress herself, who also happened to be cheating on her own husband and would be out $5,000,000 if she was caught, Veronica had decided enough was enough. While this event was a relatively light piece of straw, the proverbial camel had been beaten down, left for dead, and violated so many times that it didn't have the strength to put up a fight. The straw won.

So, yes the initial decision to move to LA for a fresh start was impulsive. But the decision to pursue being a medical examiner was not. Veronica figured it would help satisfy the scratch she had to work towards a greater good but without putting her own life on the line on a daily basis. Her dad was dubious, but she explained it would help them sleep better at night. That was actually the case for her dad, but had yet to materialize for herself. Veronica never completely closed the door on the investigative path, always making sure she renewed her PI license and occasionally offering to help a classmate track down a random guy they met at a party or run a background check for anyone who swore up and down one of their professors was a psychopath. Maybe she could end up being like that chick in _Crossing Jordan_? A badass M.E. slash detective with a smokin' hot partner. Jerry O'Connell alone seemed like a sufficient reason for the change in career path.

Veronica walked down the few stairs to the front of the classroom and placed her blue book on the stack on Dr. Jeffers' desk.

"How'd it go, Veronica?"

Most of her classmates hated Dr. Jeffers. They had decided early on that he was, _What was the phrase my classmates often use? Giant tool box?_, but Veronica had liked him from almost day one. He was her favorite type of person: snarky guy with a heart of gold.

"I think okay." Dr. Jeffers laughed at her modesty. "Aced it didn't you?" Veronica responded by shrugging her shoulders and giving him a small smirk.

"Well, enjoy your break." He said, "You deserve it." Veronica turned to leave, but before she did, she paused to ask Dr. Jeffers a question. "Dr. Jeffers, the red headed girl in the third row who I was sitting next to. What is her name?"

Dr. Jeffers smirked, "Bonny. With a Y."

"Hah! I knew it! Have a good break, Dr. Jeffers. My Christmas wish is that you grade these exams so harsh you make half of the class cry."

"That is one Christmas wish I can guarantee will come true. See you next quarter Veronica."

Veronica turned away and this time actually left the classroom, pulling her cell phone out of her backpack to see if anyone had called or texted over the past two hours. One text from Wallace: "Find it ironic that the girl who repeatedly broke into her principal's office is now taking an ethics exam. Get it girl!" She laughed to herself and almost didn't notice the guy taking long strides to catch up with her as she walked down the hallway. When she finally noticed who it was, she knew what she was in for and did her best to steel herself. No one likes to be a bitch.

"Hey Veronica, how'd it go?"

"Hey, Devon. I think pretty well. How'd it go for you?"

"As well as can be expected I suppose."

Veronica stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Devon, I saw you turn in your exam 20 minutes ago. Were you waiting for me?"

Her straight forward question clearly caught him off guard. "Yeah, I just wanted to make sure to wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Well, Merry Christmas to you, too." Knowing that Devon most certainly did not want to simply wish her a Merry Christmas but having no desire to hear his actual reason, Veronica turned away quickly, cursing her 28 inch inseam preventing her from taking as long of strides as she wish she could. _Three…two…one._

Veronica heard the footsteps and groaned inwardly as Devon ran ahead of her and stopped her from walking any further down the hall, "Actually, I also wanted to ask you if you wanted to go and get a cup of coffee, now that we're both done with finals." He looked down at her hopefully. _Shit, not again. What am I? The cuddly boy version of cat-nip?_

Veronica was just thankful she actually had somewhere to be and didn't have to tell a bald faced lie to this soft and friendly boy who was essentially her medical school class' equivalent of Winnie the Pooh. If Winnie the Pooh was 5'11", had hazel green eyes, and dark hair. "Thanks for the invite, Devon, but I'm helping a friend with a project and a rolling stone gathers no moss."

"I don't know if that phrase means what you think it means. You don't have an hour for coffee?"

"My flight leaves early tomorrow, so I don't." Totally content to leave it there, but unable to be the source of Pooh's misery, she threw him a bone. "But, maybe when I get back?"

Devon knew it was a pity offer, and simply put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, nodded his head once or twice and said, "Of course. Yeah. Sounds great."

"Merry Christmas."

"You two, Veronica." Giving her a small wave he headed back down the hallway as Veronica looked after him. _Holy hell! Is he actually walking with his head hanging? For crying out loud!_

Veronica continued her path down the hallway and pressed play on the self-flagellation track all cued up in her head. _Nice, handsome, kind pediatric student asks me on a date and I don't even seriously consider it? I may not be a doctor yet, but I know enough to know I need my head examined. Maybe when I get life sorted out, I'll ask him out for a cup of coffee?_ Veronica looked back over her shoulder and saw Devon round the corner. _My life will probably be sorted out…hmmm…three years after never?_ She turned back around and left the building, out into the sunshine, where she knew a case was waiting for her and the world made sense.


	2. Chapter 2: Save the Cat

**A/N 1: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I'm pretty new to the whole world of VMars. I only watched for the first time this December, so I need your help to make sure I'm on track.

**A/N 2: **I'm also new to the whole FanFiction world, so if there are certain unwritten do's and don'ts that I'm missing let me know as well!

**Chapter Two: Saving the Cat**

Standing outside of The Pawn X-Change, Veronica ran her hand over the front of her blazer, smoothed out a few wrinkles and then adjusted the collar. It was a mere 48 degrees outside, but the sun was still shining. Veronica put on her sunglasses and took a piece of gum out of her purse, popping it into her mouth. She closed her eyes for a brief moment trying to remember the exact posture of her supervisor from her FBI internship.

_No one did badass quite like Agent Baxter._

Now it was time to do some work of her own. Might not be as high stakes as the FBI, but it helped pay the bills. Veronica took a deep breath and then walked through the door of the relatively seedy establishment, hearing the bell ring as the door opened and then closed.

A man approximately 30 years of age walked to the counter from the back room and Veronica rolled her eyes, hidden by the dark glasses.

_Could this dude be any more of a cliché? _

He wore a black and red plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, a faded black t-shirt, and a pair of carpenter jeans that had either been well loved or absolutely hated by their owner given the number of rips and tears present. His trucker hat, the kind worn by actual truckers and not Ashton Kutcher once upon a time, would have benefited from a trip through the wash cycle.

_If I hear the words 'little lady', I may break his nose._

Veronica walked toward the clerk, took off her sunglasses, and loudly smacked her gum. She purposefully kept him in her sights indicating that she was there for a reason, and it was not to purchase ten VHS tapes for $1. "Are you the owner of this establishment?" she asked, leaning one elbow on the glass display case as she looked around.

The man smirked, "Who's asking?"

"I believe I just did" she replied. Veronica turned back around to face him and reached into her blazer pulling out her credentials. "I'm Agent Kelly Marshall with the DEA. We have reason to suspect that this business has been involved with smuggling drugs in the greater Chicago area." Leaning in a little bit, she let her upper lip curl as if she couldn't bear the sight of the main before her. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that. Would you?"

The smirk immediately left the man's face as he took a closer look at the badge being shown to him by this 5' 1" force of nature. Her stare was making him a little queasy. It was too focused. Too intense. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Veronica said, putting her badge back into her blazer. "Your name is Walter, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"Walter, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to answer some questions."

"Seriously lady. You definitely have the wrong guy. I just work here."

"First off, my name isn't 'lady.' It's Agent Marshall and I'd appreciate it if you would take the time to address me appropriately. Got it, Wally?"

"Yes ma'am."

"That's better. Second, we've been observing the ins and outs of this place for the past two years, and we know that it's the people working here who are smuggling the drugs. So, unfortunately for you, 'I just work here' isn't going to cut it as a defense."

"I'm so sorry, Agent Marshall. I'll answer any questions you want."

"You're awfully jumpy, Wally." Veronica began pacing back and forth in front of the counter, her arms crossed strongly in front of her chest, staring Walter down, barely even blinking. "We know that more than $10,000 is deposited every Monday by an employee who works at this store. Each week the money is deposited to a different account. We know that your shop is off the radar of the Chicago PD because one of those accounts belongs to one of their officers. So, please explain to me given the fact that we already know all that and you have heretofore proven to be wildly unhelpful, why I would give you even an additional thirty seconds of my time?"

Walter gulped. This girl looked so small that a strong breeze could blow her over but her presence was making him feel unsteady. Like maybe she in fact was the strong breeze. And if he got in her way, the best he could hope for would be if she simply knocked him over.

Veronica stopped pacing and put both of her arms on the counter leaning in close to Walter, as if they were the best of friends and she was getting ready to tell him a secret. "This is what we're going to do, Walter. You're going to come with me to my office, we're going to get you a bottle of water, sit you in a nice comfy chair, and then you are going to tell me everything I don't already know. And if you don't, you're going to be brought up on possession charges so fast it'll make your head spin."

"Agent Marshall, you have to believe me. I'm just a grunt worker. The owner comes in on the weekends to take the money out of the safe and make the deposits. I never thought it was that much money! The most we get are three, maybe four customers a day."

"Okay, Walter, just come with me, I'll give the owner a call and we can get this all sorted out."

Veronica could feel the tension in the air build as Walter got increasingly more agitated. She was the face of calm as he paced back and forth, put his hands to his head, took his trucker cap off and wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. Veronica's stomach dropped for a second.

_Did I miscalculate things? Is this guy dangerous?_

She reached her hand into her pants pocket, feeling for her phone and dialed '9 -1-1', before locking her phone, poised at any moment to make the call if need be. She was crafty. She wasn't dumb.

When Veronica continued to stare at Walter without saying a word he looked at her panic stricken. "Please!" He yelled. "I don't know who has told you what, but I'm not involved with anything related to drugs. I've only been working here for six months."

"Walter, you seem distressed. This doesn't have anything to do with your own past indiscretions, does it? I know all about the fact you've been arrested twice for possession. You know what they say about old habits, don't you Walter?"

"That was more than ten years ago! I was a dumb college kid, and I'm not involved with anything like that anymore. Please, if you take me in, it's my third strike."

Veronica allowed his desperation to hang in the air between them. Although her entire body had tensed up, she slowly let out an exhale, knowing that everything was going to be fine. Any anger or aggression she felt coming from Walter was merely because her interrogation had taken him by surprise. Understandably.

Fixing him with a huge smile, Veronica shook her head as if to say, "I can't believe I'm doing this for you" and uncrossed her arms. "I don't know why, Walter, but I believe you. You have an honest face. I'm gonna give you one shot to help me, but so help me god, Walter, if you tip off your owner or anyone else I'm coming for you, your third strike will come so hard your children's children will be telling stories of how your ass got handed to you. Got it?"

"Got it. I'll do anything!"

"Our sources tell us that some of the drugs are being smuggled hidden in antique jewelry. The largest shipment we could trace came back in March 2010. You get me the receipts for all bought and sold jewelry transactions for that month, and I won't bring you in."

"Shouldn't I ask to see a warrant or something?"

"You ask and you shall receive, Walter, but if I were to ask you to provide me with license, registration, and title for that vehicle sitting outside would you be able to? Or would I find serial numbers filed off and a hood filled with stolen parts?"

Walter immediately turned to go into the back room. "Give me 20 minutes."

"Take your time. I've got all day." Veronica went behind the counter and sat on the stool, keeping her eyes glued to the back room. She pulled out her cell phone, '9-1-1' still locked on the screen. It had been a while since she had found herself in a precarious situation, but you know what they say about old habits.

* * *

Several hours later, dressed now in a pair of jeans and a zip up hoodie, she walked down the hallway of a campus apartment building and stopped in front of apartment 302, knocking decisively. A woman a few years younger than Veronica opened the door, wearing sweat pants, a tank top, and a look of genuine surprise to see Veronica standing there.

Trying to put her at ease, Veronica spoke first. "Julie Thomas! One singing telegram at your service! Sorry it's not a stripper gram."

Giving a genuine laugh, Julie now looked amused rather than surprised. "Veronica, what are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for vacation?"

"I leave tomorrow morning. Can I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry." Julie stepped back, opening the door wider and allowed Veronica to step into the front hallway. "Sorry my place is such a mess. My roomies and I have yet to clean up from the obligatory carb and coffee binge that accompanies finals week. Can I get you something to drink? I have water…and water?"

"No thank you, I have to get home, but I didn't want to leave for break without giving you this first." Veronica pulled a ring box out from her bag and handed it to Julie who gasped and then stared at Veronica with a look of bewilderment. Julie opened the box and seeing the ring it held inside, a yellow gold band, with a small white diamond flanked by a blue sapphire on either side, immediately started crying. "How…how did you?"

Surprised by the depth of emotion Julie felt about the ring, Veronica casually tried to play off what she had done. "I went to the pawn shop that was located a few blocks away from your high school, got the bills of sale for all rings pawned and sold for the month you said the ring was stolen, and started tracking people down. You're lucky, the guy who bought it was jilted all the altar, so he was all too happy to sell it back to me."

Julie's eyes hadn't left the ring, and she slowly sat down, reaching behind her to ensure herself the couch was actually where she thought it was.

"So, it'll be a pretty good present for your mom, then?" Veronica asked.

Looking up at Veronica, she closed the ring box and placed it gently on the coffee table. "You have no idea." Julie rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, as if she was trying to both keep herself warm and steel herself for what she was about to admit. "I'm the one who stole it."

Veronica gaped at her. "So, you're a secondary education student by day and petty thief by night?"

Julie grimaced, and then answered, a little tearfully. "I was a bit rebellious in high school. Hated my mom, hated my younger sister and brother, hated everything. Two days before my senior prom, my mom and I had a huge blow out. I wanted her to rent my friends and me a limo and she refused. She said that it was a frivolous expense, and I couldn't get both my dream dress and a limo. I screamed and cried, and told her she was ruining my life. She tried to explain, and I cut her off without letting her speak. I didn't know this, but she had arranged for my uncle and a few of his buddies to pick my friends up and drop us off at the prom in classic muscle cars. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"What happened? Did you figure it out?"

"Not exactly. I packed a bag and ran away to a friend's house, but not before I stole that ring from my mom's jewelry box and pawned it so I could rent a limo. It was my grandma's engagement ring, and she gave it to my mom before she passed away. I knew how much my mom loved it and I wanted to make her pay. Nice, right?"

Veronica smiled tightly at her, surprised that this seemingly innocent undergrad student could have done something so intentionally hurtful. But then Veronica remembered what she and the people she knew at Neptune High had done to each other, and her surprise quickly subsided.

_Maybe we weren't as special as I thought. Maybe all high school students are just dumb asses._

Julie continued speaking. "Anyway, I've grown up a lot the past two years, my mom's forgiven me, and I'm working really hard to rebuild her trust. She's met this incredible guy who wants to marry her, but I knew she'd want this ring. When I asked you to find it, I didn't think you actually could. People said you were good, but, I thought it was gone forever."

"Hey, it was a great way to celebrate getting through finals week."

"Veronica, don't sell yourself short. This is a very big deal and it means the world to me."

Never comfortable with authentic praise, Veronica could feel her cheeks redden slightly, and she dismissed Julie's comment with a slight head nod and smile.

"How much do I owe you? It's $200/day, right? Plus whatever you had to pay to get the ring back."

"Actually, it didn't take much time, so just reimburse me for the ring, and we're square."

"Are you sure?" Veronica gave a quick head nod to assure her that she was. "Okay, will $300 cover it?"

Julie walked to her room to get her check book and missed the look that flitted across Veronica's face. Veronica opened her mouth to object and then closed it again, clearly having resolved to do something.

"It was $400 actually."

"Great. I'll add $50 as a thank you. I wish I could do more." Julie finished signing the check and tore it out of her book, handing it to Veronica.

Veronica took the check from her and quipped in response. "Just name your first born daughter Veronica and we'll be even. Tell your mom best wishes for me."

"I will. Merry Christmas, Veronica."

"Merry Christmas, Julie. Now, go call your mom's fella! You have some good news to pass on."

Julie smiled brightly and looked after Veronica as she left the living room, turned down the hall, and left the apartment. Standing in the hallway, Veronica looked at the check for $450.00 and laughed at herself.

_So the ring actually cost me $600, but what does that matter, right? Ho, ho, ho, Chicago. _

Veronica placed the check in her pocket and turned to walk out of the apartment building, humming the lyrics to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town", but inwardly changing the lyrics to "Santa Mars is coming to town."

* * *

Early the next morning, Veronica was running around her and Wallace's apartment frantically throwing things into her suitcase. Normally well organized and methodical, it was as if her type-a rubber band had snapped back hard and fast in light of the come down that always came after finals week. Which meant when she got home from Julie's house the night before she told Wallace that she was going to pack and get to bed early. Instead she curled up in her bed watching episodes from the final season of _Dawson's Creek _on Netflix.

It all seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she was sleep deprived and they were running late. Wallace stood in the kitchen, his suit case beside him, arms crossed over his chest, clearly not amused.

"If we miss this flight, you're paying for us to exchange our tickets."

"We won't miss our flight."

"I thought you said you were packing last night?"

"I had things to do."

"Of course you did. Things."

Wallace left his post in the kitchen and stood in the doorway of Veronica's room, amused at the site before him, of Veronica Mars struggling to pack both quickly and efficiently.

"You staring at me is not going to cause me to pack any quicker."

"We were officially supposed to leave 10 minutes ago"

"Hassling me won't work either."

"What about singing?" To the tune of the _William Tell Overture_, Wallace began drumming on his legs and signing loudly. "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up up up. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up up up."

Veronica groaned, and throwing her toiletries bag on top of a Northwestern sweatshirt, closed the lid and zipped the suitcase. "Are you finished?" she asked, glowering at Wallace.

"Are you?"

"Give me 45 seconds. Could you please put some coffee in a commuter mug for me? Please! I'll let you have the aisle seat."

"If we miss this flight, you're paying for the exchange, I get the aisle seat, and you're buying me a $20 fruit and cheese plate."

"Fine, but we're not going to miss the flight. Please, coffee, now."

Wallace stalked out of the doorway counting down loudly. "45…44..43…42…41…"

"Not helping!" Veronica peered out of her doorway to ensure that Wallace was in fact getting her coffee, and then ran back to her desk, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a stack of more than twenty letters, all in plain manila envelopes. She slipped them into one of the compartments on her suitcase as she heard Wallace continue his count down. "19…18…17…16…15…"

Veronica looked at her room one last time, grabbed a post card from her bulletin board that featured Hercule Poirot, and pulled up the handle of her suitcase as she heard Wallace finish, "4…3…2…1."

Veronica ran towards the front door, wheeling her suit case behind her, and took the cup of coffee from Wallace. "Come on, Wallace, let's go. Sheesh, we were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago!"

"Make as many jokes as you want. It's not going to get you out of buying me a cheese plate."

One hour later, Wallace and Veronica were running through the airport to their gate. Wallace managed to get by with just a carry on, but Veronica had to check a bag which took much longer than she was expecting due to the flood of students heading home for holiday break. Security had fast tracked them through as their plane was already boarding. Wallace's longer legs meant he had pulled in front of Veronica.

Wallace yelled at her, over his shoulder. "I told you we should have taken a cab."

Yelling right back, she picked up the pace a little, "Total rip off, and there's nothing wrong with public transportation."

"If we miss this flight, you're also renting me one of those little DVD players."

"We're not going to miss this flight."

As if in response to her over confident tone, Wallace and Veronica heard a voice announce over the intercom, "This is the final boarding call for flight 514 to Los Angeles, CA."

Up to that point both Veronica and Wallace thought they were running as fast as they could, but with that announcement they both found a well of untapped energy as they took longer strides and crashed into people, ignoring angry stares and even angrier expletives. Wallace reached the flight attendant managing the gate first and gasped out his thanks as Veronica arrived a few seconds after him. They both got onto the plane, avoiding the judgmental stares of those on the plane who were all thinking, "How hard is it to arrive at the airport on time?", and found their seats quickly. Almost immediately after they walked on the plane, the flight attendant closed the door, and the captain called to ready the cabin for take-off.

"See, Wallace. Piece of cake. Told you we'd make the flight."

Wallace shook his head at her. "You're never boring, Veronica Mars." He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Hey, Fennell, you trying to get fresh with me?"

At the front of the plane the flight attendants had begun their safety demonstration, but Wallace and Veronica ignored them, instead talking softly amongst themselves. Wallace looked at her with a look of concern that Veronica didn't appreciate. "How you feeling about heading home?"

"It'll be fine. I mean, it's only been a year. Not like I'm the prodigal daughter or anything."

"I'm just saying that somehow I managed to visit my mom three times in the past year, and this is your first time back."

"Are you saying you're a better son than I'm a daughter?"

"I didn't say that. Did you hear me say that?"

"Shut it, Fennell." She threw his travel pillow forcefully into his chest. "And take your travel pillow."

"See, this is why you have to sleep. Otherwise you get all cranky." Wallace smirked at her, but could see that she actually looked upset at the thought that she had stayed away for so long. Veronica sighed and turned to look at Wallace. "I would say that it was because I was so busy with school, but you're in grad school too. It's not like I'm the only one."

"Hey, I was just giving you a hard time. Everyone knows how much you love your dad. And you're not just in grad school, you're in medical school. It's a whole different ball game. Mechanical engineering is touch, but it's not life and death. You did the right thing by focusing as hard as you have on what you're there to do."

Veronica smiled. "For the record, I'm not cranky. You're just sensitive."

Knowing that this was the best he was going to get from her, Wallace removed his arm from around Veronica's shoulder and settled the travel pillow behind his head. Veronica did the same with her own pillow.

After the flight attendants completed their demonstration, "please make sure your seatbelt is fastened, you seat back and tray tables are in their full upright and lock position, and all carry-on items are stored properly," the pilot came over the intercom and gave his customary greeting and superfluous smarm-tastic comments. "It's a beautiful winter morning here in the Windy City. We're expected to touch down in Los Angeles in four hours. So sit back and enjoy the flight."

"Shall we do as our captain asks us, Miss Mars?"

"I think we shall, Mr. Fennel." Veronica put her fist up, and Wallace promptly bumped it. They both closed their eyes and sank as far as they could back into their seats without being able to lean them back yet. Veronica sighed. No case studies to write. No need to study the anatomy of the heart. No cases to solve. For the next four hours she chose to be blissfully ignorant, knowing that despite the belief of Wallace and her other friends, the only part of her time away from medical school that would actually be a break were these four hours on the plane. The moment the tires touched the tarmac, it was time to get back to work. _Better enjoy them while you can, Veronica Mars._

Veronica slept for almost the entire flight and didn't wake up until she heard the voice of the pilot entreat the flight attendants to prepare the cabin for landing. She raised her seat so it was upright and stored her pillow in her bag before smoothing her hair down and reapplying her chapstick. Wallace was still asleep and she felt it was her duty to protect him for the censure of an unkind flight attendant. She did what any good friend would do and plugged his nose so he had a difficult time breathing and woke up with a start.

"Geez, Veronica! How old are you?"

"I'm 24, turning 25 this August. How old are you?"

"Cute, real cute."

"I thought so. Come on Wally-F. You know you can't stay made at this face! Besides, we have to take Neptune by storm this break, and Mac isn't going to be here for another week, so if you're mad at me I am a posse of one. Which is just sad."

"I can think of a few other people in Neptune, one in particular, who would like to be in your posse."

"Unfortunately the application deadline to join the V-Mars posse has lapsed and we're no longer accepting applications."

"Well, as much as I would like to spend the next three weeks walking down memory lane with you…"

Veronica interrupts and claps her hands together in excitement. "Okay, first I'll tape you to a flag pole, then I'll hire a bunch of plastic surgery bimbos to throw my clothes in the toilet, then…"

Wallace gave as good as he got and interrupted her this time, holding up his thumb, index finger, and middle finger, pinching them together asking her to be quiet. "Buh, buh, buh. There will be no trips down memory lane, no journeys down Christmases of Neptune past."

"What about jaunts among times that were?"

"That is not a thing."

"Could be. Maybe."

"Regardless, I promised my mom that I would spend an ample amount of time at home, and I'm sure your dad will want the same for you. And if he happens to be too busy, like I said, I'm sure there's _someone_ who is bound to want to occupy your time."

Veronica turned to Wallace with a deadly serious look on her face and grabbed his hand clutching it tightly. Wallace rolled his eyes knowing that despite her expression she was being incredibly insincere. "But what happens if I go to Dick Casablancas to declare my love, and he's moved on? What then Wallace? What then!" Veronica dramatically yelled her final entreaties and more than a few passengers turned their heads to look at the tiny blonde with the big voice.

"Happy now?" Wallace asked her, easily hiding his amusement.

"Thrilled." Veronica pointed out the window. "Ugh, I hate this part." Veronica leaned back and gripped the arm rests as the tires hit the landing strip. _Once I step foot off this plane, it'll be time to face reality. Not my favorite past time. Maybe I can just sleep here tonight?_

Despite her inner resolve to become at one with the airplane, Veronica found herself standing in the line of people clamoring to get off the plane, walked through the vestibule, and into the terminal of LAX. Wallace was a few feet behind her, so she stepped off to the side and waited for him to catch up only to spot her dad running towards her. Before she could fully process he had swept her up in a huge bear hug.

"There's my girl! Have you shrunk?"

Returning the hug and fiercely gripping his shoulders, she responded, "No, you've just gotten taller. What are you doing here? Security didn't really let you through, did they?"

Keith broke the hug, but kept one arm wrapped around her. He bent his head down conspiratorially. "Shhh. I told them I was following a bail jumper and had to stop him from getting on a plane."

Having caught up to them, and hearing the tail end of the conversation, Wallace piped in. "Keith Mars, breaking hearts and laws, and taking names."

"Some things never change, Wallace. Here, let me take your guys' bags. If security asks, you two are the famed wanted couple Sheldon and Shirley Meyers. We need to go to baggage claim?"

Veronica answered. "Yeah, I had to check a bag. What's on the agenda for the night, father of mine?"

"Just a quick stop at the office to deliver something to a client, and then…

"Cheeseburgers!"

"Veronica," her dad said disapprovingly, "It's only 9 AM."

"9 AM California time. Besides by the time we get to Neptune it'll be after 11 o'clock. That's a perfectly acceptable time for bovine consumption."

"Wow, honey. Grad school had made you smarter."

"Mr. Mars, you think you could drop me off at my mom's house first? I know she was planning on having lunch ready."

"Only if you tip me very well, Wallace."

Keith gave Veronica a side-hug as they walked side by side and kissed her on the forehead. "Welcome home, kiddo." Veronica leaned into his side slightly and put an arm around his waist, as they headed towards baggage claim.

**A/N 3: **The person everyone wants to see will be in the next chapter.

**A/N 4: **The title of this chapter is a reference to a book on screenwriting entitled _Save the Cat_. A _Save the Cat _scene happens at the beginning of the movie and gives your audience a reason to root for the hero of the movie. i.e. They are a firefighter and they do something heroic and save the cat.


	3. Chapter 3: This is Home

******A/N 1: **This chapter is about 2 times as long as the first two, so it'll take a little more time to read. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3: This is Home**

At the Mars Investigations office, Veronica sat in her former chair at her former desk, now being used as transitional storage for a large number of file folders haphazardly strewn about. She had draped herself over half of the desk, and although her eyes were closed, her face clearly read annoyed. Keith sat at his own desk, taking a few additional notes as he flipped through a manila file folder, filled to the brim with papers.

Veronica raised her head up just slightly and shouted at her dad's barely ajar door. "Dad, I'm starving! I was promised burgers and fries and all you've given me is an expired granola bar and decaf coffee. This place has gone to pot."

"It's because I'm doing the work of one grown man and a little lady. Give me 10 more minutes."

"If I'm still alive in 10 minutes."

"Melodrama is not your genre, sweetie."

Veronica laid her head back down on the desk and began to go over her vacation do list. She started to get overwhelmed by the mental exercise, so pulled out a pad of paper from her desk and began making a list, starting with the easiest tasks first.

1. Catch up with Mac.

2. Bake snickerdoodles for Alicia and the family.

3. Logan

She scratched number three off the list, frowned, and put the edge of her pen to her lip, deep in thought before trying again. What she wanted to do to Logan changed practically every minute. In that particular moment she didn't know if wanted to kill him, scream at him, kiss him, or take him down to the farmer's market and see if she could get a good price for a guy with muscular arms and a great head of hair. Okay, now she wanted to kiss him. Her pen met the page again.

3. Determine if I want to see Logan

She scratched out the words for a second time. Third time's a charm?

3. Closure

She sighed loudly. _Good enough._

Veronica continued to work on her list, biting the cap of her pen, and didn't look up as she heard the front door open. "I'm sorry, we're closed on Saturdays."

"Actually, I think Mr. Mars is expecting me." Veronica froze and then quickly threw her notepad into a desk drawer as she heard the familiar voice.

_Thank you universe for the kick in the pants. But, the closure thing could have waited until my second day back._

Logan grinned as he saw he had taken Veronica by surprise and looked in the direction of the drawer where Veronica had not so subtly thrown the legal pad. "Doodling my name in the margin of your trapper keeper?"

Veronica stood up and shook her head at how easily they fell into old habits. "Actually I was arranging my conjugal visit with my prison pen pal."

"Still going for the bad boys I see." Veronica broke out in a grin to match Logan's as they walked towards one another. He easily folded her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head. Veronica softly sighed and mused at how normal hugging Logan felt. She had assumed that seeing him again would be painful. That his Loganness coupled with the memory of how close they had gotten to making it work would make hugging him torture, but knowing all of that just made her grateful she got to do it one more time.

_Closure. Soon. _

Veronica pulled back slightly from the hug and Logan let her go, putting his hands into his front pockets. She took a few steps back and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. He waved his hand to decline and instead took a few steps back as well, putting a more socially acceptable distance between the two of them.

"The prodigal daughter returns? When did you get into town?"

"Only a couple hours ago. What are you doing here?"

"Your dad is helping me with a project."

Veronica raised her eyebrows at Logan and called out to her dad. "Loving father, Logan Echolls is here to see you." _You know, the only person who I have simultaneously loved and hated with every fiber of my being. _Keith came out from the office and greeted Logan, the two of them firmly shaking hands.

"Logan, good to see you again. Sorry for the delay, I am almost ready for you. Veronica, entertain Logan for a minute." Keith turned back into his office and closed the door behind him. Veronica stared after her father, wrinkled her brow, and tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Did you hear that, Veronica? Your dad wants you to _entertain me_ for a minute." Just in case she didn't catch onto his double meaning, Logan raised an eyebrow.

"But what would you do with the other 30 seconds?"

"Ouch. Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"Only way I know how." Veronica cleared her throat, trying to redirect the conversation away from anything sexual. "So, is this project my dad's helping you with a scrapbooking or a coin collecting thing?"

"Neither, I'm kind of a client."

"So you're the reason I'm faint with hunger!"

"A million apologies."

"I thought we had already discovered all the skeletons in your closet."

Logan's lip raised slightly in a smirk. "You of all people should know how deep and dark the Echolls family closet is."

Over their many years of friendship, Veronica had learned and memorized all of the variations of Logan's smirks. This was her least favorite and the one that in high school, both when they were enemies and when they were exes, she had fought the hardest to ignore. It was the patented, 'could my life GET any more fucked up?' smirk. Veronica's heart clenched that after all these years his family could still cause his face to look like that.

She came out from behind the desk and sat on the edge facing Logan so her feet dangled as she spoke. "So, what, you and my dad are friends, or something?"

"Definitely an 'or something.'" Logan took a step towards her and leaned down to whisper into her ear. "I don't think your dad will ever forgive me for devirignizing his little girl."

Veronica pushed him back with one hand to his chest and felt a slight heat forming on the apples of her cheeks. "But, you didn't…"

"I know that, and you know that, but let's do a brief roll call of your high school and college relationships. There was Duncan, Deputy Leo, me, Duncan again, me again, Piz, and then you left Neptune and it all gets a little foggy. Your dad either thinks that a) you're a virgin, or b) he thinks I deflowered you. And while he no doubt finds you to be virtuous, he has absolutely no such qualms about me." Logan trailed off and then laughed at the expression on Veronica's face as she shook her head.

She held his gaze, a smirk of her own on her lips, and responded with words that she had uttered countless times over the years. "You are such an ass."

"Some things never change."

Veronica felt her breath leave her, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from asking: _What other things never change?_ She was there to close doors and seal them shut, not to jiggle the handle and see if she could soundlessly open them. "Alright", she ceremoniously declared, "I'm done with this conversation."

"Fair enough. It's good to see you."

"You too."

Logan rocked slightly on the balls of his feet and then looked around, gesturing with his thumb that he was going to grab a cup of coffee. As his back was turned Veronica took a few deep breaths and wiped a tear that had formed without explanation in her left tear duct. She loved that there was no tension between the two of them, but it also made the fact that Logan had made no effort to get in touch with her over the past sixteen months exponentially more painful. If he didn't hate her guts, then why the freeze out? She watched as Logan mixed two packets of raw sugar into his coffee cup, took a drink and grimaced.

"What is this? It's not coffee."

Humor. Veronica could do humor. "I sent a sample to the lab and should hear back in a few weeks."

Logan looked down into his coffee which he inexplicably continued to drink and Veronica turned around to mindlessly sort some of the files stacked on her dad's desk. She didn't know what they were for, but she began alphabetizing as if these files were her tether. She ignored the fact that she knew Logan was standing three feet behind her and most likely staring at her. She fought her instinct to bend over the desk slightly to show her butt off to slightly greater advantage. She tried to mentally force the tingle running down her spine to recede. And she grappled to remember whether the letter N followed M or if it came before.

_Follows, it definitely follows the letter M. M as in masochistic tendencies. M as in mellifluous. Mellifluous as in Logan's voice. Especially before he kisses me or when…_

Veronica heard Logan clear his throat and she startled slightly. "So," he began. "Who are you calling home these days?"

_Son of a bitch! _Veronica wiped the expression of shock off her face and turned to look at Logan who was still staring at his coffee cup. "Excuse me?"

"I asked where you're calling home these days." He looked up at her, his face a picture of innocence.

_Damn you Logan, I know that face. What the hell are you doing?_

Veronica agreed to play along with his game. "Well, I don't know if I'd consider it home, but I'll be in Chicago for two more years, and then I have to start applying for residency programs. That could really take me anywhere."

"Have you thought about where you'd like to go?"

"Definitely won't stay in Chicago. Do you have any idea how hard it is to leave your house when the high is 11 degrees?" Logan laughed again, and Veronica let herself ease into the conversation a little more.

"So, where would you go then?"

"It's still a ways away, but I'd like to come back to California if I can. I miss the beach. And the ocean. But I don't want to give up my roommate."

"Wallace is planning to leave Chicgao?"

"He has another year before he graduates and is really considering making the move out to Seattle. Boeing already offered him a job."

"Would you follow him?"

"U-Dub does have one of the best medical programs in the country."

"And there is beach in Washington."

"But it's not warm beach! It's more like a sand box on the playground on a cold rainy day."

"Being separated would definitely test the tensile strength of that tether between the two of you."

"Yeah, but the magical incantation we spoke over our best friends forever charms will ward off any evil spirits trying to mess with the bonds of friendship."

"So California it is then," Logan declared as if it was final and the decision had already been made.

Veronica couldn't help but smile at him as she answered, "I guess we'll see in two years."

"Veronica Mars, M.D. Who would have thunk it?"

"Means to an end, Logan." Veronica looked at Logan as he took another sip of his coffee and saw him grimace once more, this time adding a groan of displeasure for emphasis.

"Logan, if it's that bad why do you keep drinking it?"

"Glutton for punishment I guess." Veronica walked towards him, took the cup from him, and threw it away.

"Well, stop it."

Logan fixed Veronica with a stare and refused to let his eyes disconnect from hers. She wanted to look away from that glint in his eye that was simultaneously disarming and alarming, but she couldn't.

_I guess he's not the only glutton for punishment around here._

All of a sudden, the tension that Veronica had dreaded rolled into the Mars Investigation office with a vengeance. It filled every open space and came in through every crack and crevice. It swirled around their feet and then wound around them both so that they were bound together by their mutual discomfort and awareness of the other person. Then it expanded and simply hovered between the two of them before it became too much for Logan and he looked away.

Logan began rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and drumming his right fingers on his leg in a quick sequence, over and over again. Veronica shook her head to clear herself of the residual tension fog and then laughed at Logan's familiar mannerisms. "Some things really do never change. Seriously, you're just as twitchy as ever." Logan smirked, this time with genuine amusement, and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand as his right hand continued its cadence.

"Actually," Veronica said. "I got you something to help with that."

She walked over to the desk, and picked up her messenger bag, rifling down to the bottom. With an "ah ha" of triumph, she pulled out a purple and white koosh ball and tossed it to Logan. He caught it easily with his right hand and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"A koosh ball? What is this, 1988?"

"Hey, it's a very thoughtful gift. First of all, it's Northwestern colors. Go Wildcats. And second, it's something to keep your hands busy when you're in all of your big important meetings. Nondescript, and a lot more quiet then tapping your foot or drumming your fingers."

Logan smiled at both her reasoning and how well she knew him. "It's purple."

"And white."

"And white," he conceded. Veronica assumed he'd put the ball in his pocket, but he began to gently roll it between his two hands as they continued their conversation.

"Sorry my dad is taking so long. I can check to see what's keeping him?"

"Are you really concerned for me, or are you concerned for your stomach?"

"Some combination of the two."

"It's okay. I was a little early anyway." Logan stopped fiddling with the koosh ball and began looking at it closely, noticing the part of the ball where the rubber filaments were sewn into a loop. He slipped his index finger into one of the loops and began to bounce it quickly up and down. "This may be the coolest present I've ever gotten."

"Glad you like it." Veronica looked back in her bag and grabbed her chapstick and a water bottle she had purchased at the airport. After applying her lip balm, she went back to the front of the desk and resumed her prior position perched on the edge and took a drink of water.

Logan stilled his hands, this time actually putting the ball in his pocket, and looked at Veronica for a moment before speaking. "Can I ask you a question?" At the look on Veronica's face, Logan interrupted and put his hand up. "I know, I just did. Let me ask you another question."

"Okay."

"Rumor has it that Piz moved to Chicago a year or so ago."

"That's not a question." Veronica took another sip of water.

"No, that was a warm up statement. Did you and Piz…are you and Piz…dating again?"

Veronica's eyes went wide and she hard gulped the water in her mouth. "Um…how do I put this. No, no no, no no, no no. We are not dating again. No."

Logan tried to keep his expression neutral but Veronica could see the relief wash over his face. And Veronica had to internally recite the motto that she had adapted a long time ago with Logan Echolls. _Things don't mean anything until you're told that they mean something_. She would not assume that the fact his eyes lit up when she denied dating Piz had anything to do with her. It simply meant he was a competitive boy and the person who he felt had "won her" at one time was no longer the victor.

"Why would you think we were dating again?"

"I figured you move to Chicago, he moves to Chicago. Seemed inevitable. I called Wallace once to ask, but as soon as I said your name he refused to let me speak."

"And that's why he's my BFF. But Piz and I are not…the thing about Piz is…well Piz is…" Veronica trailed off as she decided the best phrase to use to complete that sentence.

"Boring? Non-threatening? Potentially a woman? Stop me when I get it right."

Veronica snorted, and then smoothed her face down, not wanting to encourage Logan's Piz slight. "I was going to say, great guy."

"That was my next guess. But?

"I think he thought I was someone different. And I think I thought so, too. But eventually we both stopped thinking we thought we knew who I was and I just was who I was and it wasn't someone he wanted to be with. Make sense?"

"Not in the least."

In reality, it made perfect sense to him, because it was exactly what he observed when Piz and Veronica dated in college. For the longest time Logan couldn't figure out why his own relationship with Veronica was so volatile while Piz and Veronica, or for history sake, Duncan and Veronica, seemed steady and solid. They didn't get bent out of shape that she was a PI. They didn't unintentionally push her away by wanting to know everything about her. They didn't break up and reunite more times than Cher gave a farewell tour. But then somewhere down the road he realized it was because it was all a farce. There was no tension because both Duncan and Piz were delusional enough to design a Veronica in their own image. A Veronica smoothed out with only a few rough edges to keep her interesting, and as long as they maintained their illusions, everything was fine. Logan on the other hand fiercely loved every single part of who she was, even the parts that drove him insane, and the parts she would never admit that she hated about herself.

"Also," she continued, "there's the whole good guy thing."

"What good guy thing?"

"I'm sick and tired of meeting these guys who start off all warm and cuddly and then use their kindness as a way to manipulate me." Veronica's expression went dark and she pursed her lips. Logan knew there was a story there, but she wouldn't tell him even if he had asked. "It's like they're attracted to the unpredictable side of me, but as soon as they have me, they don't want that part to be there anymore."

At that analysis, Logan burst out laughing, Veronica frowned at his response. "What about that is funny to you?"

"Only that you've just described the plight of every bad boy since James Dean."

Now it was Veronica's turn to laugh. "So, I'm the bad boy of the relationship? Fantastic."

"If the shoe fits, Mars."

"When Piz first moved to Chicago he slept on our couch for a couple days, and I could tell he was hoping we would start dating again. But, no. Wallace still sees him pretty regularly, but I don't."

"Look out your bedroom window at night, and I'm sure you'll see him curled up outside pining away for you. A good girl never gives up on redeeming their bad boy."

"I've missed these moments."

"Haven't you?"

Veronica paused for a beat before answering sincerely. "Yeah. I have. Really." Logan looked at her intently and opened his mouth to speak just as Keith opened the door to his office and popped his head out.

"Okay, Logan. Sorry to keep you waiting." He opened the door a little wider to allow Logan to join him.

Logan gave Veronica a little half smile as he walked into the office and Keith closed the door behind them. She immediately jumped off of the desk and quietly walked over to the door, trying to get just close enough to gather snippets of conversation.

She heard her dad apologize to Logan for not having more to tell him at this point. She heard Logan respond that he trusted Mr. Mars. She heard her dad guarantee he'd have more to report the following week. And then she heard both of them stand up and begin moving towards the door. Veronica moved as quickly as she could back to the desk chair and propped her feet up, grabbing the first file she could reach and flipped through it intently. The door to her dad's office opened and she stood up, her eyes immediately drawn to the large manila envelope that Logan was holding.

"Meeting over already?" She threw the folder she was holding back onto the desk and then pointed at it. "That dude is totally guilty by the way."

Her dad went over to the desk and picked up the folder. It contained a year's worth of electricity bills. "You're not fooling anyone, honey." He put the folder back down and then patted Logan softly on the shoulder. "See you soon, Logan."

"Thanks, Mr. Mars. See you soon."

Veronica walked over to stand in front of Logan. "We're about to step out and get cheeseburgers. I'd love to hear what's…ya know…'up' as the cool kids say."

"Thanks , but I have somewhere I need to be. When do you leave?"

"Day after Christmas."

"So we have time then?" Logan's tone of voice was both emotionally strained and hopeful.

Veronica smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, we have time." Logan moved his hand to touch her arm and she thought he might even kiss her forehead like he had done so many times before, but then he caught himself, put his hand in his pocket and stepped around Veronica to exit the office.

_Damn it. Not how this was supposed to go._

Keith witnessed the entire exchange and had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from laughing. The two of them may have been 24 years old, but they were dancing around one another like they were at a junior high social. He wiped his hand over his face in an effort to firm up his expression before having to face the inevitable interrogation from his daughter.

Veronica turned around, her eyes narrowed and hard as flint. "So, what was that about?"

"You don't work for me anymore. That is exclusively PI, client privilege." Keith turned around and went back into his office, Veronica following him closely.

Not to be deterred, Veronica tried again. "Hey dad, I'm a little strapped for cash. Want to hire me back for the next two weeks? Now that I'm an employee again, what's up with Logan coming to visit you?"

"You're a big city girl, now. I can't afford to hire you. And it's not for me to tell you what Logan is doing. Maybe when the two of you catch up he'll fill you in." Keith sat down and stared at his daughter. He was having a hard time keeping the amusement out of his eyes.

"Wipe that look of your face," she spat out at him.

"What look? I don't know what look you're talking about."

Veronica placed her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward. "You like him now?"

Her father leaned back, gave a soft sigh and was silent for a moment before speaking. "I think I understand him now."

"Care to clue me in?"

"Now, now, honey. You always understood him better than anyone. Which should work to your advantage when you try and convince him to fess up."

"Oh, there is no try. Only do, or not do."

"In this case, my money is on 'not do.' No offense."

"Offense taken."

Keith stood up and walked over to her side of the desk, kissing her on the forehead, mirroring the gesture that she had just thought Logan was about to enact. "I'm sorry, honey, but I've got a little more work to be done. Rain check on the cheeseburgers?"

"Rain check for you, but for me there will be beef."

"Save me some cold fries."

"I make no promises."

She gave her dad a quick hug and exited his office, closing the door behind her. Veronica stood in the middle of her dad's office and looked around. She swore Logan's cologne was still lingering in the air and she resisted putting her tongue out to see if she could taste it. He had only rattled her once in their brief encounter, and thankfully it was while her back was turned and he couldn't read her expression. His question continued to ring in her ears: _Who are you calling home these days?_

Had he really forgotten? Or was he just being a total jackass and trying to get a rise out of her? Knowing Logan it was the latter, but she had no idea what his end game was. What did he gain by rattling her? Veronica felt her knees wobble slightly and she sat at the desk.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

_Veronica had returned from her FBI internship on August 18, she was run off the road on August 22, and by August 29 she had cancelled her enrollment at Hearst and called every admissions counselor at UCLA, begging them to allow her to start in the fall. Her tenacity, coupled with her high GPA and test scores, and the fact that she would pay her entire tuition outright won them over, and on September 1 she registered for classes. The term didn't start until September 24, so she spent the next few weeks preparing to leave and spending as much time as possible with her dad, Wallace, and Mac. _

_Piz was in New York until the 15th, and she hadn't yet gotten around to telling him she wouldn't be joining him for their sophomore year. Before the summer she had thought that the whole long distance relationship thing would be a challenge, but discovered quickly that it was a relatively perfect set up for her. It allowed her to maintain the level of intimacy that she desired, took her off the market so she could easily blow off undesirables, and gave her a flirting buddy, albeit one over the phone. She figured the whole switching schools thing would be much easier to explain in person, so in their intermittent phone calls she never brought it up. What she had a hard time admitting to herself was that it felt wrong to have Piz know something so important about her before Logan did. He still wasn't back from his summer away, and she had no idea when he would return, or if she even had a right to that information. _

_When Piz got back their conversation went about as well as she had expected. He seemingly went through the five stages of grief at her news: Denial that it was actually happening, anger that she had waited so long to tell him, bargaining with her to allow him to transfer too, depression in the form of ignoring her calls for a couple of days (there hadn't been many), and finally acceptance because he didn't really have any other option. Veronica had made her decision, and she intended to stick with it._

_Veronica's plan was to leave for LA the Sunday before classes started, and her dad wanted to throw a small party for her and her friends, but she convinced him that what she really wanted was a large scale BBQ and beach blow out. He was understandably skeptical, never before having heard his daughter use the words "blow out" in a completely sincere manner, and tried to convince her to keep it simple. Veronica insisted it was what she wanted and recruited Parker to help her invite every person who she had even spoken to while at Hearst and managed to not piss off. It was a relatively small group, so she gave Parker carte blanche to invite anyone else. _

_She gave Wallace, Mac, and her dad a different answer every time they asked her what was going on. In reality, she couldn't handle the small group gathering because the small group gathering necessitated heart felt speeches, and she didn't think she'd be able to stomach Piz grabbing her hand and whispering his declarations that he really thought they could make the long distance thing work._

_The night before the party, Veronica was hanging out with Mac at her parent's house flipping through an old copy of Psychology Today and began to read one of the cover articles, "Unnatural Selection: Picking the Perfect Jury". Mac looked up from her book and said unceremoniously, "I invited Logan and Dick to the party."_

_Veronica didn't look up, but kept flipping through the magazine. "Good" she replied. _

_Mac noticed she kept her expression neutral, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of Veronica's mouth as she fought to stop herself from smiling. Mac knew it wasn't Dick who warranted that smile, and she looked back down at her book and simply said, "Yeah. Good."_

_The following night, the party was in full swing. Approximately 80 people had gathered at Dog Beach and Veronica only recognized about 20% of them. Her dad lasted about 45 minutes before heading home, knowing that the two of them would spend the following morning and early afternoon together before she left. At close to 9:30 Veronica saw Mac and Max walking towards her. Mac was holding a rather large box with a red bow on it, and Veronica's eyes lit up at the prospect of presents. She ran towards the couple and gave Mac a quick hug._

"_You are very late, but you brought me a present, so you are very forgiven."_

_Mac shifted her feet in the sand and looked at Veronica. "Actually it's not from me. It's from Logan. He's sorry, but he can't make it tonight." _

"_Oh." She responded, taking the gift from Mac. "Nice of him to send a present." _

_Mac could tell Veronica was disappointed, and she was surprised that Veronica was allowing her to see that. Disappointment was one of the dozen emotions that Veronica often hid from those around her, but it seemed that the suddenness of the letdown had disarmed her. Veronica looked to both Mac and Max before speaking again, "So…is he…" And then she stopped, her mask of disinterest slipping up once again. "I'm just going to go run this out to my car. See you two in a minute?" _

_Mac didn't know what to do or what to say. And she didn't know Veronica well enough yet to know what she needed in spite of herself. "Yeah, see you in a minute." Mac took Max's hand and walked towards the bonfire, where she saw Wallace, Piz, and Parker roasting marshmallows. _

_When Veronica and her friends left the party around 11:30 PM, it had grown to close to 100 people. Veronica knew it was time to leave when someone turned to her and asked, "So, who is this Victoria girl we're all celebrating?" Veronica simply shrugged her shoulders and put an arm around Wallace letting him know it was time to leave if he wanted a ride back home. _

_That night she sat on her bed with the box from Logan in her lap, her legs crossed under her. A part of her knew that no good could come from opening the present, but she couldn't help herself. She first opened the small 2' x 3' envelope and pulled out the small card. Someone had drawn on one side a picture of a car with the words "UCLA or Bust" on the back of the windshield. On the other side she saw Logan's scrawling print: "In case you get homesick. – Logan" Veronica slipped the bow and ribbon off from around the box and took the top of the box off easily. Inside was a grey hooded sweatshirt, which she knew wasn't new, but rather one of Logan's own. She held the sweatshirt up to her nose and could smell cologne, green apples, and the ocean. Without a moment's hesitation she picked up her cell phone and called him. He answered after the second ring._

"_Did you like your present?"_

_Veronica smiled at his disregard for normal social conventions. She also realized this was the first time she had heard his voice in three months. That thought made her unbelievably sad, and then angry both at Logan for his actions which had caused her to draw the line in the sand, and herself for having drawn it. _

"_Veronica?"_

"_Yes, thank you. It was really thoughtful."_

"_You really leaving tomorrow?"_

"_Hard to believe, but yeah."_

"_Will I get to hear the full story one day?"_

"_Yeah. One day." Veronica laid back on her pillow, her legs still crossed under her, and found she didn't know what to say. Good bye? I'm sorry? Have a nice life? She wondered where Logan was while they were having this conversation. She closed her eyes and could imagined him sitting on the couch in his suite at the Grand, his shoes off, and legs extended on the coffee table. _

"_Sorry I missed the party. Dick said it was fun."_

"_A good time was had by all. I think."_

"_Not your usual sort of shindig."_

"_No."_

"_Will I get to hear the full story one day?"_

"_One day."_

_There was silence on both ends of the phone line as Veronica carefully weighed and measured her next words. "Why weren't you there?"_

"_Veronica…"_

"_Dick was there, that girl Beatrice from my criminology class with the bad breath was there, hell even Jeff Ratner put in an appearance."_

"_I couldn't, Veronica."_

_She could hear that there was more that he wanted to say, and she also knew that she'd have to force it out of him. "Mac told me she invited you."_

"_Yes, she did."_

"_So, you could have."_

"_No, Veronica. I couldn't. For once I was trying to do the right thing." _

_Veronica sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, looking at the sweatshirt lying on her bed. Her eyes drifted to the stack of suitcases gathered by her door, and then over to her nightstand where Piz's present from New York stood, a framed Band of Horses poster which he had gotten signed at the radio station. In a flash all the pieces clicked together._

"_Piz asked you not to come, didn't he?"_

_Logan paused for a moment and took a breath before answering. "Veronica. Can you blame him?"_

"_No. I guess not." But inside her head, Veronica had answered that question differently. Yes. She could blame him, and she had every intention of doing so. _

"_I'm sorry, Veronica. I'm just really sorry."_

_Veronica knew he was apologizing for more than just missing her party, but she didn't have the guts to ask him everything his sorry was supposed to cover. _

"_Good night, Veronica."_

"_Good night, Logan."_

"_And, Veronica?"_

"_Yeah, Logan."_

"_Don't go changing." Veronica could feel the tears well up in her eyes and she choked out a, "You neither," before hanging up the phone and falling back on her bed. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined that Logan was doing the same thing. She thought about calling him back again but she didn't know what she'd say, so instead she called Piz. _

_There was lots of yelling, a few tears on both of their parts, and more than a few harsh words exchanged. She asked Piz to accept the fact that she was someone who hated having decisions made for her or having her hand forced. She wanted a partner in crime not a protector. Piz protested again and again, not convinced that he had done anything wrong. _

"_He beat me up, Veronica! You told me you cut him out of your life, and now you're pissed at me for asking him to stay that way? Jesus. Why does he have such a hold over you?"_

"_Enough, Piz. Enough. He is my oldest friend and I wanted the opportunity to say goodbye. That's all."_

_The conversation spiraled out of control. The ultimate conclusion was that Piz didn't trust Logan, and by extension Veronica, and Veronica had no intention of stopping something, anything, simply because Piz asked her to. The "because I'm your boyfriend" excuse didn't work for her._

"_Veronica, I'm tired, can we finish this conversation another time?"_

"_No, Piz. I'd like to finish it now. Answer me something honestly, if you could change anything about me, what would it be?"_

_Piz was hesitant to answer, but once she poked and prodded he mentioned her propensity to investigate dangerous circumstances, her friendship with Logan, the way she didn't ask him before making decisions, the fact that she rarely volunteered information about herself, the way she was hesitant to call him her boyfriend, and about a half dozen other offenses. Veronica was exhausted._

"_Piz, what the hell are we doing?"_

"_I don't know."_

"I was the first girl at Hearst you met. You think I'm funny and cute. That's not enough."

"_Yeah. We're breaking up, aren't we?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Damn."_

"_Yeah."_

_The two of them stayed on the phone for a full minute, neither one saying a word. Veronica was giving Piz a chance to say anything else he felt he needed to, and Piz was hoping Veronica would change her mind. When he realized she wouldn't, he spoke up. "Take care of yourself, Veronica."_

"_You too, Piz." _

_Veronica hung up her phone and glanced at the clock which now read 12:45 AM. She forced herself to get out of bed and brush her teeth and she waited and waited for the tears to fall. She went back into her room, turned off the light, and clutched Logan's sweatshirt as she lay in bed. Then the tears came. She fell asleep that night with Logan's sweatshirt pressed up to her nose and Piz's present put away in her nightstand. _

**END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Her breakup with Piz had been her favorite break up. Not that it had been easy. But it was her favorite break up because it was for the right reasons. There was no potential incest, murder accusations, threat of death by a local gang, evasion of the FBI, or the memory of a drunken encounter darkening the door of their relationship. Rather she was standing up for herself, in all of her busted up and bruised glory. She knew who she was, what she wanted, and didn't want to sacrifice. She wasn't opposed to growing and maturing, but she wasn't about to get rid of her Veronica-ness. Piz wasn't the guy who was going to give her the freedom she needed and also call her on her shit or the guy who would let her sling mud but not hold it against her.

Veronica's mind flashed to the hallway of her ethics classroom when Devon had asked her out for coffee. She closed her eyes and remembered his cuddly boy expression frowning in disappointment, and then she saw Logan's smirk, and there was no contest about which face she preferred.

Veronica scrunched her face up as she turned all of these thoughts over, and heard her dad open his office door again. He leaned on the door jamb looking at her.

"I thought you were getting food?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I got a little distracted." Keith watched her sitting there and saw an expression that looked a lot like resolve settle on her face.

"Honey, you okay?"

"I'm always okay." She stood up from the chair, grabbed her purse, and went over to her dad, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Alicia and the boys still coming over for dinner tonight?"

Her dad gave a quick nod.

"Great. I'll be home by 5:30."

She walked to the front door and her dad's voice caused her to pause again. "Honey, are you really okay?"

Veronica looked like she was about to say something and instead just shrugged her shoulders. Without another word she turned back towards the exit, a plan already forming in her mind.

* * *

Logan sat at the wheel of his black Lexus LX, parked four blocks away from the Mars Investigation office. He knew Mr. Mars had said he would call him, but his eyes kept drifting back to the rear view mirror just to check. For a moment he doubted his presupposition that he knew Veronica better than most people. He thought for certain that waving the envelope under her nose and making a vague excuse about why he wasn't able to join them for lunch would be enough incentive for her to track his cell phone and figure out where he was going. He had been waiting for 10 minutes, and she hadn't left.

Logan flopped his head back onto his head rest and let out a strained groan.

_What the hell are you doing, Logan?_ He was playing with fire and everyone knew it. He knew it, hell Mr. Mars knew it. But he couldn't stop himself.

The previous night, Mr. Mars had called Logan to give him an update on his case and let him know he had some documents that Logan could come and pick up. Logan asked if he could pick them up Saturday morning and Keith had paused for a moment before letting him know he was picking Veronica up from the airport then. Logan didn't say anything and neither did Keith. Logan knew that Keith was giving him the opportunity to either see Veronica for himself or to back out gracefully and pick a different day to come visit the office. Logan insisted on meeting Keith on Saturday, and Keith scheduled an appointment with him for 11:30 AM.

Logan didn't know why he put himself through shit like this. For the past year, while she would return his email if he sent one, or answer her phone if he called, she had stopped initiating any part of their friendship. He knew that should have pissed him off more than it did. After all he was the one who had put it all on the line their senior year of college, and she had been the one who couldn't even dignify his gesture with a response. Yet here he was sitting on the street waiting for her.

Logan's sophomore year at Hearst had started off miserably. He got back from his summer trip well-tanned and well rested only to hear the moment he arrived that Veronica was transferring to UCLA. Dick couldn't have been happier. Not so much because he hated Veronica, but because he was sick and tired of the Logan and Veronica rollercoaster and he thought that finally both of them could get over it. But Logan didn't want closure. So while he affected disinterest at missing her party and pretended he wasn't playing the "what is Veronica doing right now game", he had secretly put a piece of electrical tape over the door latch of his emotions so that he could silently open and close it and no one would be the wiser.

The first few months he swore he was going to get back the girl, but he had no idea what to do. He made small steps. No drunken sorority party hook ups, and even applied himself to his classes, simply because he kept telling himself Veronica would be back and he didn't want to see the look of disappointment in her eyes. He declared himself an English major with a minor in linguistics, always having loved the way language was used and crafted. Dick was confused at Logan's change in behavior, but he didn't mention Veronica, still surfed any chance he could get, and was never opposed to going to a party although he rarely had more than two drinks on any given night. It was Logan 2.0, and while not as much fun, at least he showered.

Logan had picked up the phone more times than he could count to call her to see how she was doing. Although it was only 2 hours away from Neptune, he was aware that this was the first time Veronica was flying without a safety net, and he worried about her. He still had her number in his speed dial and would press the button to call her, watch all 10 digits of her number dance across his cell phone screen, and then right before the call connected, he would hang up. He told himself to man up. To stop being a little bitch boy about the whole thing and just call her. He'd almost listen to himself, and then he'd remember the last words she spoke to him at the Grand: "This is the moment, where it's just done. You're out of my life forever," and he'd give up, knowing that Veronica was prone to hyperbole when she was upset, but not willing to chance it that this time she actually meant it.

Logan thought he might have the wherewithal to go through the rest of his college days abstinent in the hopes that one day Veronica would return and crook her finger at him, but then he met Sarah. The two of them had a meet cute in the dining area at Hearst when their orders had gotten switched unintentionally, but Logan hadn't noticed and eaten half of her meal by the time she had gotten her wrong order. He agreed to pay for her lunch, and the two of them ended up eating lunch together every day that week. She was funny, beautiful, and laughed easily. They started dating, like really dating, quickly thereafter. Two months into their relationship, no sex had been had, and something in Logan began to spark again.

The most challenging part was trying to keep Sarah from Dick, who had discovered early on that Sarah's last name was Wood. Dick had managed to come up with an endless amount of pairings of his first name and her last name and the joke never seemed to get old for him. Logan thought it was funny as well, but he could see it pissed Sarah off like nothing else, so he ran interference.

When Sarah and Logan celebrated their four month anniversary, Logan realized it was the least dramatic relationship he had ever been in. They had been together every day of those four months, he hadn't beaten up a single person, and he figured this was the type of relationship most people had. Hell, it was the kind of relationship Veronica had had with everyone except him. It worked perfectly. Until it didn't.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

_Logan had given Sarah a key to his room at the Grand, primarily so she could use it to come and study whenever she needed to. That day had been a particularly hard one for him. His phone had reminded him that it was the third anniversary of the first time he and Veronica had kissed. He had put the reminder in his phone when they were dating freshman year at Hearst and when they broke up he couldn't bring himself to delete the reminder. _

_So that's why Sarah found Logan on his couch with an expensive bottle of whiskey staring into space with his Veronica box on his lap. Letters, movie ticket stubs, pictures, a dirty crossword of sexual positions Veronica had made Logan while waiting for him to pick her up for a date. Sarah took one look at him and spoke a series of words that would eventually be spoken so many times by women he was dating that it could have become a drinking game in its own right. "You're still in love with her, aren't you?" _

_Logan had managed to keep the vast majority of the tumult of his relationship with Veronica from Sarah, but at the pained look in her eye, Logan allowed everything to spill out and over. He told her honestly that he really cared about her, but he still wasn't completely over Veronica yet, and that he just needed more time. _

_Sarah was understanding and listened patiently, but with tears in her eyes told him she had been waiting for close to five months, and it didn't look like anything was going to change. _

"_Logan, be honest with me. If she came back tomorrow and told you she was sorry and that she forgave you and wanted to be with you, what would you say?"_

_Logan didn't say anything, but Sarah saw the look of hope flash in his eyes before it gave way to dread that that would never happen. _

"_Okay, well, we're not going to be dramatic about this." She took his room key out of her wallet, put it on his coffee table, and kissed him on the cheek before standing up to leave his suite. "I'm not going to put all your stuff in a box and return it to you. I figure I put up with your smart assery for five months, I deserve some parting gifts." _

_Her tone was light, but Logan could hear the way her words were tight at the end of her sentence. He looked at her as she turned to leave and stood up. "Sarah, I'm sorry." He wasn't sure if she heard his words before the door closed._

_In that moment Logan hated himself, and he came as close as he ever did to also hating Veronica. How dare she walk out on him without even so much as allowing him to explain himself and then continue to haunt and mess up every aspect of his life. He grabbed his bottle of whiskey and Veronica box and threw the box in the garbage before retiring to his bedroom. At 3:00 AM he woke up, went out to the living room of his suite, and took the box out of the garbage. He placed it reverently at the top of his closet, and then went back to bed, easily slipping into sleep. _

**END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Cut to four years later and he felt like he was still in the same spot, waiting for Veronica to crook her finger at him. The hardest part was that he still hadn't decided what he wanted. Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted. He had yet to figure out what he needed and whether both wants and needs could be satisfied at the same time. He wanted Veronica, but he needed to not be reduced to a shell of a man if it didn't go his way. He wanted to be happy, but he needed to know that the happiness he acquired was sustainable.

Logan's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror again, and still not seeing any sign of Veronica, turned the key in the ignition to leave. He pulled away from the curb as his phone started to ring. He grabbed it from the cup holder and looked at the display seeing that it was Keith, undoubtedly telling him to give up and go home.

"This is Logan."

"Hey Logan. Look, I don't know what you have planned, but she just left."

Rolling up to a stop sign, Logan looked in the rear view mirror again and sure enough saw Veronica walking out to her Saturn and get into the driver's seat. An honest to goodness smile spread across his face.

"Logan?"

"Yes Mr. Mars?"

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

Logan laughed a little and shook his head. "Mr. Mars, I plan to woo her."

He heard Keith sigh before responding. "Yeah, I had a feeling. Good luck, Logan. I'll be in touch."

Both men clicked off, and Logan continued driving heading, confident that Veronica Mars would be closely behind.


	4. Chapter 4: Moving On, Supposedly

**A/N 1: **I have had this done and edited for a couple of days, but have been hesitant to post it, because it didn't quite go in the direction I wanted it to. It's all pretty fluffy still, but know that Veronica and Logan both have mysteries and secrets, but it is only Veronica's first day back in town. I've written mysteries before, but not in a while, so we'll see how it goes when I get to the actual clue leaving and slow reveals.

**A/N 2: **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story thus far! I'd love to hear from more people. What's working? What's not working? More than 1,000 people visited chapter three, so please judge me. Also, 56 people following the story? Hells yes.

* * *

Veronica took a right onto N Belhaven Street, her eyes searching the road for Logan's car. "I have somewhere I need to be." His words had been vague, but Veronica was certain that Logan's destination was connected to whatever it was he and her dad were working on. He had never turned down lunch with her before.

The cell phone tracker was on the passenger seat, but she had thus far avoided using it. If she were Logan, where oh where would she go, manila envelope in hand? She had already been to three of his favorite beach hang outs, the shake shack that served seasonal milkshakes (strawberry rhubarb in the summer), the park under the freeway colonnade, and the tapas restaurant he enjoyed purely for the windows. In addition, she had driven by a few locations in the '02 zip code famous for their seedy underbelly. No black Range Rover. No Logan. A few more turns and she heard and felt her stomach grumble. With a slightly defeated sigh, she turned into the parking lot of a sandwich shop and ordered a turkey and avocado sandwich to go, resolving as she stood in line to turn on the cell phone tracker and eat the sandwich as she drove.

Truth be told, she had no desire to track Logan's phone. If he ever found out, and she didn't know how but he would certainly find out, she didn't want to rehash their old arguments, especially since she was only going to be in town for a couple of weeks. She took a large bite of her sandwich, a few sips of her soda, and turned on the tracker.

She watched the map and saw the little dot marked "L.E." pop up on her screen. He was only 30 blocks away from her, and she realized that she had been circling his actual location for the past 20 minutes. She immediately pulled out of the parking lot and drove towards the address. Thoughts had been flooding her subconscious since the moment she left her dad's office, but there had been so many that she hadn't had time to dwell on any one thought for longer than a few seconds.

Some of the more simple ones were along the lines of:

_So, this is what classifies as moving on these days?  
__He's not your boyfriend.  
__Give it up, Veronica. _That one was always said in Wallace's voice.

The more complicated ones focused less on facts and more on the potential ramifications of her actions:

_What is it going to do to him when he discovers you're tracking him again?  
__Isn't this all just a distraction to avoid what you came to Neptune to do?  
__He doesn't want you, so why are you inserting yourself where you don't belong? _

It was the final thought that she had the hardest time pushing away. Things had obviously changed. He had gone to her dad rather than her for help. He had been warm, open, and friendly, but had kept his distance. And that look, the one that she saw in his eye each time they broke up, the desperation to reunite, was absent. She felt selfish wishing it was still there, because she knew how miserable it had made him. But she excused herself because while she had been better at masking it, it had always been in her eye as well.

Their freshman year at Hearst Logan had changed his message on his voicemail in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day: "We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope." When Logan visited her for spring break in Los Angeles three years later, Veronica had been foolish enough to hope that they had reached a turning point. New paths would be forged, old patterns would die, and the two of them could start over. But then they didn't. She couldn't help but think at the time, "Martin Luther King, you are a wise man, but there are some disappointments that feel infinite."

The display on the tracker started beeping loudly signaling she had arrived at her destination: a run of the mill neighborhood drug store. She pulled into the far corner of the parking lot, and pulled out her camera with the zoom lens, her eyes peeled for Logan's car. She couldn't see the Range Rover and realized that while Logan's cell phone was in that location, he certainly was not.

_Whatever he's messing around with, he's obviously scared enough to feel the need to switch out vehicles to escape detection. Where is he?_

After snapping a few more pictures, the obvious solution slapped Veronica in the face, and she in turn slapped her hand to her forehead, accidentally smearing a dab of mayonnaise on her skin. She groaned, leaned over to her glove department, and pulled out a napkin to wipe away the condiment from her face. Throwing her napkin onto the floorboard of her car, she pulled out her cell phone. In high school and college, while she always eventually figured out the true culprit of whatever crime she was investigating, she often jumped to some pretty hasty conclusions in the process. Whatever was happening with Logan was no exception.

Veronica called her dad, putting the call on speaker phone and placed the phone on her dashboard.

"Hey sweetie. Miss me already?"

"Like a fat kid on a diet misses cake. Dad, I'm about to ask you a question and I'd like you to refrain from asking me any questions in light of the question that I am about to ask you."

"That doesn't seem fair."

Veronica continued to look through the lens of her camera, but she wasn't at the correct angle to get a clean shot into the drug store.

"Daddy, please?"

"You realize your head tilt doesn't work over the phone, right?"

"You underestimate me."

"Alright, fine. Ask your weird question."

"What kind of car does Logan drive?"

Her dad gave a little grunt of laughter. "Are you following him?"

"Ah, ah, ah, dad" she scolded him, "that wasn't the deal."

"I don't know if I should encourage this kind of behavior."

"Says the man who ran a background check on my date for the sixth grade social."

"Point Mars. He drives a black SUV, a Lexus I'm pretty sure."

"Thanks dad, you're the best."

"We've been reduced to flattery? Any chance you're going to tell me what's going on?"

"None whatsoever." She gave off a loud kiss noise into the phone and hung up.

She picked her camera back up and scanned the parking lot, this time looking for a black Lexus instead of a Range Rover. She found it easily, and was thankful to see it wasn't parked in front of the large store windows. She opened her car door and looking both to the left and the right to ensure no one in the parking lot was watching her, made her way over to Logan's vehicle. Sitting on the front passenger seat was the manila envelope Logan had received from her dad. She tried to open the driver's side door, but of course it was locked.

_Okay, so we have to go to phase 2. _

If she felt bad about tracking Logan's phone (and she did), she felt even worse about what she was going to do next, but she found herself being swept up into a familiar compulsion. _My old friend, obsession. How I have missed you._

Ducking down by the driver's side door, she placed a tracker under the front tire wheel well, and then scurried to the back, holding onto the bumper to peer around the vehicle to see if Logan was inside. She could have picked Logan's silhouetted profile out of a line up, and currently that profile was standing in aisle 7. Veronica made her way back to her car, and pulled around the corner so Logan wouldn't see her when he left.

On the same screen which she had used to monitor Logan's cell phone, there was another set of L.E. initials, these ones in red indicating that they were for the vehicle tracker. Veronica knew that if Logan was meeting with the wrong kind of people, they would most likely insist that he turn over his phone, and she didn't want to risk losing track of him.

Hunched low in her seat she only had to wait five minutes for both sets of the L.E. initials on her screen to move and indicate that Logan had left the drug store. Veronica turned her car back into the parking lot, smoothed down her hair, and put on lip gloss. She knew she didn't have time to access the security footage from the store if she was going to try catch Logan before he left his next destination. Some old fashioned lying would have to do the trick.

Veronica entered the drug store and saw that only one checkout lane was open. The cashier himself was a rather gangly twenty-something guy who she figured was working his way through community college and would easily give her the information she wanted for $20. Veronica observed his reaction as he saw her stand in line. He gave her the oh-so-typical head to toe once over. Perhaps the $20 was unnecessary. She stood in line behind an elderly man paying for his organic peanut butter and raisin bran, both coupon items that week, popped her hip slightly, and crossed her arms firmly across her chest, hoping the combination of the gesture itself and her v-neck t-shirt would provide some cleavage. As she got closer to the front of the line she saw the boy's name tag: Zach.

_Let operation "Fan Girl" commence._

Veronica looked behind her and saw she was the only person in line. As she got closer to Zach she tilted her chin down, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then impishly looked back up at him.

"Hi, I'm Genevieve." Veronica stuck her hand out to shake his hand. She saw Zach try to imperceptibly check her out again, stare at her chest, and then bring his eyes back up to her.

Zach pointed both of his thumbs to his chest in an, 'I'm the big man on campus' type gesture and responded with his first name only.

"Well, Zach, this is really embarrassing, but I noticed that Logan Echolls was just in here. You know the son of Aaron Echolls. And you see Logan has been my celebrity crush since I was like 10 years old, and I was just wondering if you could tell me what he bought while he was here because it'd make a totally awesome entry for my Logan Echolls fan blog."

"Logan Echolls is a lucky man."

Veronica played dumb and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"I'd do anything to have a pretty girl like you follow me around."

Veronica placed a hand on her chest and exclaimed, "Zach, did you just pay me a compliment? Ohmigod. This is the greatest day ever. I'll get to learn what kind of deodorant Logan Echolls uses, and the totally hot babe at the Rite Aid things I'm cute."

Zach burst into a wide grin, and Veronica placed a hand to her mouth feigning embarrassment. "Oh my gosh. Did I just say that out loud? Awkward."

"No, it's sweet, but I should tell you I have a girlfriend."

"Damn, all the good ones are taken."

"But, I can help you with Echoll's information. He was my second to last customer, so his transaction will be pretty easy to pull up. I can just print out his receipt. But if anyone asks, this information did not come from me."

"I'll just write on my blog that I was standing behind him in line or something." Veronica waited for the receipt to print out and she bounced from side to side as if her excitement could not be contained.

"Zach, can I ask you a question about Logan Echolls?" She gave a dreamy sigh as she finished the question.

Zach noticeably grimaced and nodded his head, signaling her to ask away. "Okay, what was he like? I mean, on TV and in the magazines he always seems to like, ya know, ooze charisma. Did you get that impression?"

Zach ripped off the receipt and handed it to her. "Honestly, not really. He was pretty dodgy, and just kept wandering the aisles for about 15. At one point he came to the front of the store and just stared out into the parking lot like he was waiting for someone. I thought he was a shoplifter and was going to alert my assistant manager, but then I recognized him, and figured he was just being an eccentric millionaire. Does that help?"

Veronica gave a squeal of delight and kissed him on the cheek. "Ohmigod, Zach. You have no idea. You just totally made my decade." Veronica ran towards the door but turned around when she heard Zach call for her.

"Hey Genevieve, you know, sometimes it's pretty easy for me to forget I have a girlfriend."

Veronica assumed the look on his face was supposed to be lust filled and lecherous, but he just looked constipated. Veronica swallowed a laugh, but played it off like he had made her nervous at the show of attention, gave a little half wave and headed straight for her Saturn without another look back. When she got into the driver's seat she turned the tracker back on and saw that Logan's car had stopped approximately 2 miles from where she currently was. She looked over the receipt and frowned.

Candles, toothpaste, toothbrush, shave gel, q-tips, trail mix, and a bottle of water. Veronica started her car, pulled out of the parking lot, and realized two things. First, she had no idea what was going on. Clearly Logan had come to the drug store to meet someone but she couldn't make sense of his purchases in light of that information. Maybe they were a code? Maybe he was killing time until the person he was waiting for arrived? So then why did he leave? Did the person stand him up? Or was he following a complex list of tasks to assure he wasn't being followed?

She rolled up to a stoplight and looked at the receipt again and furrowed her nose.

The second thing she realized was that she missed the person Logan Echolls. She had missed Logan a lot over the years, but it was always for relatively intangible and emotional reasons: the way he made her feel, the way he looked at her, the way he challenged her. But today she missed Logan Echolls as a real person in her life. She hated that her dad knew what kind of car Logan drove and she didn't. She hated that apparently he had switched his brand of toothpaste and shave gel and she wasn't around to hear his asinine defense of his newfound acceptance for Crest ProHealth. She hated that she didn't know if the reason he had bought a lemon verbena candle was because he was dating someone or he was about to be dating someone or he simply liked the smell.

Most of all, she hated that she kept following the little blip, blip, blip, on her tracker screen and that for one of the first times in her life she was ignoring her old instincts to run, run, run. She knew Logan didn't want her to actively be in his life, but she was intentionally inserting herself into her dad's investigation, hoping she could at least be useful if not wanted.

When she told Joanna about this, and she had long before committed to telling Joanna everything, she was going to have a field day.

Veronica Googled the address on the tracker screen and discovered that Logan was currently at The Copper Cart, a relatively seedy bar that sat comfortably between the line dividing the 02 zip code from the 05 zip code.

_A bar at 2pm? That's early even for Logan. Just who is he meeting here?_

Veronica parked in an alleyway adjacent to the bar that gave her a relatively good view of the front entrance as well as Logan's Lexus, parked on the street in front of The Copper Cart. She picked up her camera and zoomed to focus on the driver's seat of Logan's car, assuring herself that he wasn't inside. As she sat in the car waiting for some sort of clue as to what Logan was doing there, she had an unexpected insight into what was motivating her to act this way.

_I'm having fun. Oh God, I have issues. _

Interrupting her thoughts was a knock on the passenger side window. She jumped slightly and turned to see Logan's face smiling back at her. Their eyes remained locked as he circled the front of the car to stand by Veronica's door. She took a few deep breaths before she opened the door and got out, now stuck standing in between Logan and her car door.

"Fancy meeting you here. Care for a drink? This place apparently makes a great whiskey sour."

Veronica relaxed when she saw that Logan wasn't mad at her. She opted to play along. "I was just here taking some pictures of the well renowned 02 architecture. Pretty great stuff."

"You know I heard rumors that the use of neon along this strip in Neptune was being featured in architectural digest."

"Well, I got what I came for, so I better be off." Veronica turned around and opened the door of her car, only to feel Logan come up behind her, place his right hand above her head and gently close the door. She gulped at how close he was standing to her and slowly turned around. He wasn't moving away and continued to stand there, one hand on her car, leaning forward slightly, looking down at her.

_This isn't fair. This isn't fair. Why is he doing this?_

"Can't have you leave yet, Veronica. I have to give you your Christmas present."

Veronica raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Now?"

"No time like the present. Pun intended." Logan reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out the tracker Veronica had placed under his wheel well. "If memory serves you use these, right? And I weirdly found one on my car just now and thought, 'I know the perfect person to give this to.' Imagine my luck when you're already here."

"Truly serendipitous." She took the tracker from him, and looked down, her cheeks aflame with shame.

"You don't date Veronica Mars for close to a year and not pick up on a few of her tricks. Now that we've settled that, I think I'll be on my way." Logan removed his hand from her doorframe, and turned around taking long strides towards his car. Veronica remained leaning back against her car door hesitating for only a few seconds before running to catch up with him.

"Logan, wait."

He continued to walk but when he reached his car turned around and looked down at her expectantly.

"Yes, Veronica?"

"My dad wouldn't tell me why you hired him. I guess I could have just asked you, but…"

"But this seemed like more fun?"

Veronica dropped her head in embarrassment and then looked back up to see Logan staring at her. She was certain that she would see his disappointment that she was still up to her old tricks. Maybe annoyance that she preferred a tracker to a tough conversation. But he surprised her by smiling down at her with clear admiration. His expression unnerved her and she furrowed her brow at him.

"I'm sorry, Logan?"

"Was that a question? Veronica, you don't have to apologize. Look, I'll make you a deal. You tell me what you're doing in Neptune, and I'll tell you what's in that envelope sitting on my passenger seat."

Veronica hadn't expected that and chose denial as her first line of defense. "I already told you, I'm visiting my dad for Christmas."

"Funny story. The other day I was in your dad's office when he paused our meeting to take a call from you. You remember the call I'm talking about?"

Veronica crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked up at him.

_My B-cup served as a distraction once today. Maybe the girls have it in them to go 2 for 2?_

Logan looked down quickly and back up again, a smirk on his lips. "Cleavage as a distraction method? A little low concept, but often ultimately effective."

She dropped her arms.

"Let me refresh your memory. That was the phone call where you told your dad to cancel his plans to visit you in Chicago for Christmas because you were coming to Neptune. Now, why would Veronica Mars ask her dad to cancel his vacation plans so that she could come back to Neptune for the holidays, a place she never really liked all that much?" Logan took his eyes from Veronica's face and stared up and to the right, tapping his chin as if he was contemplating the answer.

"I don't mind Neptune."

"Let me pose a little theory here. You're up to something. Doing something, investigating something, I'm not sure yet, but you needed your dad distracted and you knew that if he was in Chicago with you for two weeks, staying at your apartment that you wouldn't get a moment to yourself. But if you came back to Neptune, the old Keith Mars work ethic would kick in and you'd be relatively free to do anything you needed to whilst he was at work. How am I doing?"

Veronica's expression gave nothing away. "That's a very colorful theory. You should get one of the burnout authors you represent to tease that idea out a little more. I'm smelling Pulitzer."

"All of my clients already have a Pulitzer. Been there, done that. So what's it going to be? Let's just sign the peace treaty and have an equitable distribution of information."

Veronica mimicked Logan's earlier posture, staring off into the distance and tapping her chin with her index finger. She stopped, grinned, and crossed her arms across her chest again. "Like I said, interesting theory but I'm just here visiting my dad."

"Fine, have it your way. But I would like the record to state that I attempted to play nice." Logan moved as if he was going to get into the car and then stopped abruptly, turning around and slapping one hand to his forehead. "Oh, I forgot, just one more thing."

"Yeah?"

Veronica watched as he moved around her, went to the back of his car, crouched down and felt underneath his back bumper with his right hand. After a few seconds, he stood up, holding a second tracker in his hand.

Veronica's arms left her chest and were now on her hips. Logan casually tossed the tracker from one hand to the other as he walked back towards Veronica. He held it out to her and she moved to take it from him, but he held her hand in his for just a second, not allowing her to pull away immediately.

"So," he started, "I'll see you soon?"

Veronica looked at him and nodded her head slightly. "Yeah, see you soon."

He gave her fingers a slight squeeze and then released the tracker into her hand. Veronica took a step back as he got into his car, started the ignition, and pulled away from the curb, waving at her as he drove off. She stood there staring at Logan's car as it rounded the corner, and then down at the tracker she held in her hand.

_How the hell did he know I put a second tracker on his car? Did he see me? Or does he really just know me that well? Logan Echolls, 1, Veronica Mars, 0._

In every possible way, her interaction with Logan had surprised her. She had expected annoyance at being tracked, anger at her mistrust, and frustration that she didn't cop to her true motives. His obvious delight and amusement at their little tête-à-tête had been completely unexpected.

Driving forward out of the alley a fleeting thought entered her mind: The snooping, the spying, the surveillance, all things which had seemed to frustrate Logan to no end while they were dating now seemed to almost charm him.

Then she admitted to herself, _You're not being fair, Veronica. Way to rewrite history. _

Logan had always loved her sneaky ways. Even while they weren't on the friendliest of terms he made a pointed effort to hire her or ask her for help. Rather it was her propensity to run toward situations carelessly that raised his ire. She maintained he was being over protective and his vocal concern was simply a way to control her but he always defended himself, citing love as the reason he did and said the things he did.

Her internal defense had always been, "My dad loves me more than anyone and he doesn't act the way Logan acts about my work." It wasn't until the summer of her internship that her mental rolodex flipped through all of the dangerous circumstances she had been in the past two years. She realized just how many of those circumstances Logan had been around for and how few she had actually confided in her dad about. If her dad had known half of what she had done, no doubt his determination to protect her would have matched Logan's.

Her epiphany was triggered by a sleepless night in Virginia wherein she got up at 2:00 AM and mindlessly channel flipped finally landing on the E! Network and a rerun of the _Aaron Echoll's Tinseltown Diaries_. She had never watched it all the way through before, but she had been missing Logan lately and allowed herself to indulge for a few minutes. Before she knew it she had watched the entire 90 minute episode and had discovered a newfound shame for how her reckless behavior had impacted Logan.

Her mind flashed over every shitty card that had been dealt to him: abused by his father, girlfriend murdered, mother committed suicide, disinterested sister, house burnt down, set up for murder, held at gunpoint, and his girlfriend shipped off to boarding school, all before he had graduated from high school. He wasn't trying to control her; he was utterly terrified and the way Veronica lived her life just made him more afraid.

The epiphany from several years ago was in the forefront of Veronica's mind as she drove. What did it mean that Logan now found himself amused by her antics? Did he no longer care about her, or did he simply trust that she'd take care of herself? Or was he still terrified but used a well-placed smirk to cover his fear?

She glanced at the clock, 2:30 PM, and decided to head to her dad's house to take a nap before he got home. Her eyes fell to the passenger seat to where the tracker screen, turned off, and the two vehicle trackers now sat. She thought of her poorly executed game of cat and mouse and broke out into a grin.

Logan Echolls. The guy was never boring.

* * *

Later that night, after her third bowl of Alicia's famous chicken and dumplings, Veronica exited to the kitchen to slice up the Ghiradelli brownies she had made earlier that evening for dessert. She had just gotten out a stack of bowls from the cupboard when Alicia joined her.

"I figured you made the brownies, so I can help scoop ice cream."

"But you made dinner, so aren't you supposed to now just sit back and be doted upon?"

"Single mother. Not super comfortable with the whole being 'doted on' thing. I do much better when I have something to do."

Together they sliced and scooped servings of brownies and ice cream for Keith, Darrell and Wallace. Veronica picked up the three bowls and headed for the dining room.

"I'll be there in a minute with yours and mine," Alicia said.

Veronica turned around and looked at Alicia, now slicing up the largest of the brownies, presumably for her, and smiled. "Actually, Alicia, would you be willing to have yours with me in the kitchen? I wanted to ask your advice about something."

"Do I get any sort of hint as to what this something is?"

"I can tell you it's girly."

"How girly?"

"More girly than Rosie O'Donnell and less girly than Zooey Deschanel."

"I don't know what that means."

"I'll explain in just a minute."

Veronica turned back around to bring the boys their ice cream and smiled as she heard the three of them talking heatedly. She figured out they were talking about some sort of fantasy sports league, but whether it was soccer, football, baseball, or ping pong she couldn't say. She liked seeing her dad this way and in this house. He looked comfortable, and content, and she knew that was something he hadn't always been able to claim.

After he lost the election for sheriff the second time, Keith had poured himself into his work at Mars Investigations, and vowed that unlike when Lamb was sheriff, this time he would mind his own business. If the town didn't want him, he didn't want the town. If he thought the sheriff's office was mishandling a case, he'd investigate it independently and then turn over the evidence without getting tangled in the entire mess. His plan was to keep his head down and build his business. Vinnie Van Lowe learned relatively quickly that the sheriff's department was a logistical nightmare he was not well prepared for.

Three months after the election Vinnie was getting bogged down in the drudgery of kissing babies and shaking hands, and was floored by the ineptitude of most of his deputies. He was drowning in the sheriff's department, and something had to give or he'd sink. That was what prompted him to ask Keith for his assistance. Keith Mars would be hired as a consultant, earning a stipend of $3,000 a month to help do two things: 1) train the deputies in best practices for the department, and 2) assist on any cases that had stumped him. Vinnie agreed to give him relatively free reign to do the job as he saw fit. While not ideal, it connected Keith to the work he loved in the town he finally admitted he loved to serve, but it also kept him away from the political mire of the job. And so went Keith Mars' resolve to mind his own business.

In addition to Keith's work as a consultant, he continued his work as a PI. With Veronica out of the house, he didn't mind having to work 60-70 hours a week and he began to make and save more money than he had when he was sheriff. He kept from Veronica his plans to move, but Christmas her junior year of college, he had framed for her a picture of himself standing in front of a "For Sale" sign taken only a couple days prior.

Keith, and Veronica when she was home, now lived in a simple three bedroom, two bathroom house with a small den on the lower level that Keith had converted into a small at home office. His dining room was now separate from his kitchen, which was separate from his living room, and he was proud of the work he had done pressure washing the exterior and repainting the trim, tearing out the landscaping and planting rose bushes, replacing the carpet in the living room and restoring the hardwood floors in the kitchen.

Seeing her dad sitting with Darrell and Wallace, laughing and debating and arguing, he finally seemed at peace. He wasn't the sheriff, but half of the town knew he might as well be. She wouldn't be surprised if the town rallied to have him win by write in vote during the next election. He wasn't married, but he and Alicia had found their way back to one another again. He wasn't wealthy, but he could afford to visit her twice a year and even occasionally surprised Veronica with a ticket of her own.

She placed a bowl of dessert in front of each of the men sitting at the table and kissed her dad on the forehead.

Her dad looked up at her kindly, "Don't tell me you already ate yours and you're going back for seconds?"

"Alicia and I are having ours in the kitchen. We needed to escape all the testosterone." She held up a finger and pointed it at her dad, Wallace, and Darrell in kind. "And no boys allowed in the kitchen. We're having girl talk."

"Do you even know what girl talk is, Veronica?" Darrell asked.

"Wallace, what did you do to your sweet little brother who used to think I was the coolest girl around?"

"Can't help it, V. He's 14. They got to grow up some time."

Veronica leaned down and held Darrell's hand in her chin, talking in a faux baby voice. "Well, you may be 14, but I still think you are the cutest little Darrell ever. Yes I do." She stood back up and pinched his nose lightly. "Ooops! I got your nose!" Without another word she turned and went back into the kitchen.

"She is so weird," Darrell remarked.

"Yeah, but I like her," her dad responded.

"She's alright," Wallace smiled and agreed, taking a large bite of his ice cream and returning to their previous conversation.

Veronica walked into the kitchen and saw that in addition to a very large brownie and an ample amount of ice cream, Alicia had added whipped cream and a drizzle of fudge sauce. She lifted up the bowl to show off her handiwork as Veronica stepped towards her.

"I figured if we're going to do girl talk, we're going to do it right."

"You are a saint." Alicia took a seat at the island in the center of the kitchen, and Veronica remained standing, leaning over onto her forearms, taking a scoop of ice cream, putting it in her mouth, turning the spoon over and repeating. They ate their dessert in amicable silence, Alicia knowing that Veronica would start talking when she felt ready.

Having finished her dessert, Veronica pushed the bowl a few inches away from her. "Tea?" she asked.

"Please." The silence became decidedly less amicable. Alicia could see the tension in Veronica's posture as she turned away to put water in the kettle. Whatever she wanted to talk about, she was clearly hesitant to bring up. "Your dad tells me you've been keeping your PI license up to date to make a little cash when you have time. Any interesting cases?"

Veronica turned around, placing a steaming mug in front of Alicia. "Not really. Chamomile lavender okay?"

"Perfect." Alicia waited a little longer.

"Actually, I just closed a case last night before coming here."

"You're in the top ten in your class and you still manage to find time to solve cases? Your dad is right. You really are a superhero."

Veronica glowed at the compliment. "It was a pretty simple case, but the person who hired me was wholly unexpected."

"How so?"

Veronica knew exactly what Alicia was trying to do, getting her talking about a subject she felt comfortable with so she'd be more open to discuss the topic she was clearly avoiding. And she totally fell for it. She laid out the facts of the case, how she put the pieces together, and ultimately recovered Julie's mother's ring with relative ease.

"Alicia, this girl looked about as threatening as bubblegum and she did this selfish thing for the express purpose of hurting her mom."

"But you said she changed, wanted to make amends."

"I never said that. I said _she_ thinks she's changed."

"You're not so certain?"

Veronica shrugged in response and took another sip of her tea. She held the mug in her hands and then placed it up to her cheek, enjoying the warmth it provided. Alicia sat across the counter discreetly watching her with one eye as she sipped her own tea. She could see that Veronica was working through something, and for some reason, Veronica had wanted her there to help figure it out. Alicia was committed to being as patient as she needed to be.

Sip. Stare. Sip. Stare. Sip. Sip. Sip.

Veronica finished her tea and set the mug gently on the counter. She placed her two palms flat on the countertop and looked up at Alicia who was still peacefully sipping her own tea.

"Alicia?" Alicia placed her mug down and crossed her hands, resting them lightly on the countertop. "How did you and my dad get back together?"

Whatever Alicia had been expecting, it wasn't that. "I thought your dad told you the story?"

"No, I mean, I know logistically how it happened. It was only natural with Wallace and I being roommates that the two of you would see each other more. What I'm wondering is…well, it's just that you and my dad have broken up almost as many times as…well, no offense, but it seemed like a lot of times."

"It was."

"But you guys tried again."

"Yes. We did."

"And you seem really happy and solid."

"That's because we are."

"Are the two of you going to get married?" Veronica slapped her hand to her mouth. "Sorry, Alicia. That's none of my business. Ignore me. I'm terrible at girl talk."

"You're not as bad as you think. And yes, we've talked about it seriously. We're both planning on our future's involving the other person."

Veronica's voice rose in volume and she threw her hands up in frustration. "But how?!"

Both women looked startled at the vehemence in her voice. Veronica looked down at her feet and spoke more softly. "How did you guys get past the stuff between you and decide to give it another go?"

Alicia placed her hand lightly on Veronica's, turning Veronica's hand over so she was holding it gently. She lightly tugged Veronica's hand to gesture her to come and sit next to her. When Veronica sat, Alicia gently wrapped an arm around Veronica's shoulder and Veronica allowed her head to fall gently on Alicia's left shoulder.

"We established a ground rule."

"Rule? As in singular?"

"Yes. No lying."

"That's it? No lying?"

"Yes, but it has some parameters."

"Your rule has parameters?"

"Hey, sassy, do you want to hear this or not?" Veronica nodded her head slightly in response. "First, lies of omission count as lies. Second, if one person suspects the other of withholding something, all they need to do is ask 'is there something I should know?' Third, believe the other's answer, no matter what."

"Sounds so simple."

"It is now, but nine months ago, it wasn't so easy."

"Has anything changed? I mean, is it working?"

"I can't speak for your father, but for me it has. It used to be that there were parts of my life I didn't feel he had the right to know about. Now there's nothing in my life I don't want him to know about."

"Even the bad stuff?"

"Especially the bad stuff. Veronica, there isn't a man more loyal than your father. I figured if anyone was going to stick by me when my little life boat was going through rough waters, it'd be him."

Veronica lifted her head up from Alicia's shoulder and stared intently at a spot on the wall, trying to figure out if that was really all it took. A mutual agreement to be completely honest. She looked down and saw that Alicia's hand was still holding hers gently. Alicia moved to pull it away, but Veronica gripped hers back a little more tightly. While moved by the gesture, Alicia knew that something was wrong, and she couldn't help but pressing a little to get her to open up.

"Veronica? Is this about Skyler? Are you wanting to get back together with him?"

Veronica immediately let go of Alicia's hand and shook her head emphatically. "I don't want to talk about Skyler."

"Veronica, did he hurt you?" Alicia saw a tear forming in Veronica's right eye and she lifted her thumb to wipe it away gently. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Alicia, I don't want to talk about it. Maybe one day I'll tell you the whole story. Yes he hurt me, but not in the way you're thinking and not in a way that's going to make me want to get back together with him. Ever."

"So, why all these questions about me getting back together with your dad?" Alicia's voice trailed off as she realized just who Veronica was talking about. Veronica looked both pained and embarrassed. Unable to meet her eyes anymore, Veronica laid her head on the countertop. She closed her eyes tightly.

"I know, I'm pathetic."

"Not pathetic. Never pathetic." Veronica felt Alicia's hand on her head, gently playing with a few strands of her hair. "Veronica, I'm not going to pretend to understand the scope of your history with Logan, and I don't know what brought on this change of heart, but I will say this. If you don't want to be with Logan, if you're just feeling lonely, or curious, or if you're on the rebound, then you need to leave him alone."

Veronica raised her head up to look at Alicia. "What?"

"If you don't want him, Veronica, you need to leave him alone, for good. Let him move on with his life."

"But he has moved on with his life. He's got a job he loves and is really good at, a group of friends that care about him, he's rich, handsome, still as charming as ever. Logan Echolls isn't pining away for me."

"No, he's not. But he does love you."

Veronica felt her breath leave her and a slight smile played at the corners of her mouth. She put her head back down on the counter and picked up Alicia's hand, placing it back on top of her head. "More magic comb please." She heard Alicia laugh softly and felt her pick up another strand of her hair.

"I came to Neptune to say goodbye to him."

"And now that you're here?"

"I don't know."

Veronica's breaths got heavier and she couldn't remember a recent moment where she had felt better cared for – sitting in her dad's home, with Alicia, the woman he loved, listening to her every word as if they were important.

"Wallace tells me that he and Mac still talk to Logan, hang out with him whenever they visit. I'm not encouraging espionage here, but they could probably give you some insight into what he's thinking."

"I told Mac and Wallace a long time ago that they weren't allowed to talk about me with Logan and I didn't want to hear anything about Logan from them. Doesn't seem right for me to ask them about him now."

"Regretting that decision?"

Veronica simply groaned in response.

Veronica heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and assumed soon she'd also hear her dad's voice. She lifted her head up and laughed as she saw her dad fumble through the hallway balancing his, Darrell's and Wallace's empty bowls while he had his eyes squeezed shut.

"Warning! Man entering the kitchen. Immediately bring all girl talk to an end." He slowly opened one eye and when he saw Alicia and Veronica smiling back at him, figured it was safe to enter.

Veronica hopped off her stool and went to take the bowls from her dad, placing them in the sink. "I'll take care of those in the morning. I'm sorry to be antisocial, but I'm pretty beat. I'm going to say goodnight to Darrell and Wallace and head to bed."

Keith placed one arm around his daughter. "Totally acceptable, kid."

"Goodnight, Alicia. Thanks for everything."

Alicia's heart lifted at the sound of thankfulness in Veronica's voice. "Anytime." Keith watched his daughter leave the kitchen and walked over to Alicia, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"So," he said, "good talk?"

"Good talk."

* * *

An hour later Veronica was unpacking her suitcase and hanging clothes up in the large wardrobe that her dad had bought especially for her new room. She'd pay good money if someone could one day figure out a way to simply transport this room in its entirety to wherever she moved in the future. It was painted a pale yellow, and had white crown molding around the entire base of the room. While some elements of their former apartment had survived the move, most of the furnishings were new to her. Her dad had asked her what she wanted and her sole request was a larger bed. The room now housed a full size bed, covered by a puffy down comforter in an ornate cerulean and white pattern. She had saved up her PI money for a couple of months and had purchased a set on sale from _Anthropologie. _It was the softest fabric she had ever touched and it made it difficult to get out of bed whenever she came to visit.

Her dad had also installed a custom light fixture. When it was turned low it cast a warm glow throughout the entire room. Veronica had seen a Dale Chihuly blown glass installation while in Chicago and she loved how it simultaneously encapsulated both fire and the sea. While the lighting fixture was nowhere near as opulent, it still produced the same gravity defying effect as a large scale Chihuly scultpure. Veronica would often fall asleep with the light fixture turned low, but all lit up as she slept.

Veronica continued to put her clothes away, and heard a light knock on her bedroom door. "Come in."

Her dad slid the door open and stood in the doorway. "I thought you were going to bed."

"I am, but I wanted to unpack real quick. If I don't do it now I'll just be living out of my suitcase for the next two weeks."

He watched her for a few minutes as she put her clothes away, set out the clothes she wanted to wear the following day, and slide her suitcase under her bed. "It's really good to have you here, kiddo."

Veronica stopped what she was doing and turned around, taking three steps towards him and putting her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I've been away for so long."

"Hey, no need for apologies. You're here now." He held her for a second more before taking a step back. She turned around again and picked up her messenger back which she had thrown in the large oversized armchair her dad had also placed in the room. "Are you just going to stand there all night and watch me like a weirdo?"

"My house, my rules."

She rolled her eyes and pulled the Hercule Poirot postcard she had brought from Chicago out of her bag.

"What's that?" her dad asked?

"A postcard."

"I can see that. Why do you have it?"

"I don't know; I guess it's kind of like my good luck charm. Plus, his goofy expression makes me smile." She held up the postcard next to her face and gave her dad an exaggerated smile, showing as many of her teeth as possible. "We make a cute couple, right?"

Keith knew the postcard probably had greater significance than his daughter cared to admit, but he dropped the subject. Veronica walked over to the bulletin board hanging above her desk and pinned the postcard up.

"See. It's like he's my guardian angel."

"Should I be offended that I'm no longer your favorite balding detective?"

"Don't worry, Daddio, there's space in my heart for both of you. Plus, he has a mustache."

"Fair point. Goodnight, sweetie."

"Good night dad. See you in the morning." Keith walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Veronica looked at the postcard again and smiled just slightly. She walked over to the wardrobe and opened one of the drawers, pulling out the sweatshirt Logan had gifted her and a pair of plaid boxer shorts, which she was fairly certain had also been Logan's at one time. She examined the elbows of the sweatshirt and noticed they had almost been worn through from constant wear.

_Closure does not mean no longer sleeping in his sweatshirt. _

She dressed in her pajamas quickly and crawled into bed.

As uncomfortable as her earlier conversation with Alicia had been, she had almost wished it hadn't ended so soon. She wanted to be able to explain to her that she wasn't holding on to be cruel. Neither she nor Logan had remained celibate. They knew enough about one another's lives to know that. Skyler was her most recent and most significant relationship since Logan, but he hadn't been the only one. If dating other people and not seeing one another for more than a year didn't constitute as letting one another go, she didn't know what did.

Veronica turned on her side, and covered her mouth with one of the sweatshirt sleeves. She liked falling asleep breathing in the smell.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

Veronica pulled out of the Neptune Grand parking garage and felt miserably guilty. Logan had just learned the truth about Norman Phipps, and he had looked more broken than she had seen him in a while. Her heart ached as he expressed his desire for honest to goodness family. She felt even worse when she admitted to him that she had to leave him alone to spend time with her own honest to goodness family. Her dad had planned a father/daughter movie and dinner night and Logan had insisted she go, despite her insistence that she cancel to stay the night with him.

She wasn't more than five minutes from The Grand when she heard her cell ring, and saw her dad was calling her.

"Dad, I'm only 10 minutes away. Don't think just because I am a little late that you get to pick the movie."

"Actually, honey, you can definitely pick the movie. And you can order whatever you want for dinner."

"What's the catch?"

"I won't be there to eat it with you."

She groaned and raised her voice slightly. "Keith Mars, are you standing me up?"

"Veronica Mars! Yes I am."

"The PI business calls?"

"I just got a tip about that child support case I've been working on. The ex-husband was spotted in Tucson."

"Need me to pull over and book your ticket?"

"Already got it taken care of. I'm sorry, honey, I'll make it up to you."

"For this, I'm making you watch _Labyrinth _again."

"But you hate David Bowie in spandex."

"Not as much as you."

"You're evil."

"And you're the one who spawned me. See you in a couple days."

"Oh, honey.

"Yeah dad?"

"Do I need to remind you where your bed is?"

"Nope, got that covered."

"I'm sure. Love you, sweetie."

"You too, dad."

Veronica tossed her phone on the passenger seat, looked in her rear view mirror, and flipped a u-turn, managing to only get honked at by two cars in the process. She parked her car back in the garage at The Grand and arrived back on Logan's floor only 15 minutes after she had left. Using her key card to enter, she expected to see Logan sitting on his couch clutching a bottle of scotch. She was surprised to see him in the exact place she had left him, standing on the balcony, staring at the skyline.

"Alright," she said loudly, clapping her hands together. Logan turned around to look at her, startled at her entrance and stared. "Dad is in Arizona probably until Thursday, which means you have a new roomie for a couple days. I promise I'll try to leave the toilet seat up." He turned back around, and continued to stare out over Neptune.

Veronica took a deep breath. "So, what's the plan for the night?" She joined him on the balcony and stood beside him, also looking at the skyline.

"Veronica," he started to protest.

"I'm assuming your plan was to get drunk tonight?"

"Yeah."

"How drunk?"

"Shit faced."

"Well, it's been a while, but apparently getting black out drunk is just like riding a bike." She grabbed his right hand with her own and pulled him back into the suite.

"Veronica, stop." She knew he didn't want her to see him like this, but she refused to leave. She dropped his hand, held his head between her hands and kissed him lightly.

"Logan, I'm not leaving you alone tonight. I don't have class tomorrow, so if you want to get drunk, let's do this thing." He smiled sadly at her and placed his hands over hers, still cradling his face. He kissed her back, and touched his forehead gently to hers. They stood that way for a full two minutes, him closing his eyes every once and a while before opening them again only to see that Veronica held his gaze until he was ready to go.

"Alright," he conceded. "Let's get drunk." He let go of her hands and made to move to the mini-bar.

"Not so fast. We're not getting mini-bar drunk."

"Why not?"

"Because if I am getting black out drunk, I intend to do so in a public place where I am able to loudly shame both myself and you."

Veronica's heart lightened slightly as she heard him laugh. "Go big or go home, huh bobcat?"

"Exactly. Plus, I'd like to keep the suite reserved exclusively for fun activities, like makin' whoopee. Don't want to sully it with my puke." She turned to walk away and felt Logan's arm wrap around her waist and turn her back around. He gripped her tightly to his chest and kissed her deeply, pouring all of his anger at Norman Phipps, his disappointment in himself, his longing for family, and his love for Veronica into it.

Two hours later, Logan and Veronica lay in bed together. He was on his stomach with his face turned towards her, and she was curled up to him on her side, lazily running her fingers up and down his back. Veronica knew the combination of really good gin and even better sex was going to leave her with a headache in the morning, but as long as she was awake she was feeling good. Logan was still raw with emotion, and his vulnerability was drawing her out in a way that was rare.

Veronica caught Logan's eye and her fingers stopped their movement. "Don't stop," he said. She smiled at him and resumed tracing the lines of muscle in his back. As she watched him close his eyes, she felt a swell of protectiveness in her gut, and thought she'd do anything to prevent him from being hurt again. _This must be how he feels about me, all the time. _But, still, she had questions.

"Logan," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Why did Norman mention Harry and David's?"

Logan opened one eye and looked at her. He mentally weighed and measured whether or not he had the emotional wherewithal to tell this story again, but when he saw the compassion in Veronica's eyes, he felt compelled to tell it to someone who wouldn't use it against him like a weapon. For the second time in his life, he told the story of the Christmas morning with the pears. He looked at Veronica the entire time he spoke the words.

Her hands kept tracing the lines of his back as he spoke, but when he finished, she grasped both of his hands in hers, causing him to roll to his side so they were face to face. She moved closer so her head was tucked under his chin.

"You know studies have shown that smell is the sense that is the greatest trigger of memory," she mused.

"Yeah," he responded tentatively, not sure where she was going with this.

"Pears are obviously a bad one. Do you have any good ones?"

"Good whats?"

"Smells. Ones that trigger good memories?" She moved her head back slightly to look up at Logan's face. He looked down at her and ran one of his fingertips down the bridge of her nose and then traced the outline of her lips.

"Yeah, I have one." Veronica didn't say anything, but looked up at him expectantly. He laughed despite himself. "It was spring of our freshman year of high school and I had to stay after school for some reason."

"Probably detention," she smiled up at him and kissed his cheek.

"Probably. I walked outside to meet my driver and I saw you sitting outside, angrier than I had ever seen you."

Veronica gasped slightly and nodded slowly. "I remember that." Veronica grasped Logan's hands more tightly and she felt him squeeze back. "My mom and I were supposed to go on a mother/daughter shopping trip and she never showed up. At first I was worried, but then my dad called my cell to let me know mom wasn't feeling well, as in she had had too much vodka, and asked me to get a ride home with Lily."

"Why didn't you?"

"I was too embarrassed to tell her what was going on." She snuggled a little closer to Logan. "What happened next?"

"You don't remember?"

"I do, but I want you to tell it."

He smiled and kissed the crown of her head. "I offered you a ride home and you said no. You said you were too mad and you wanted to walk off the anger, so I sent the driver off to wait for me at your house and I insisted I walk the four miles with you."

"My hero."

"Do you want to hear the rest? If so, zip your lip." Veronica made like she was locking her lips with a key and then pulled Logan's chin down and placed the imaginary key on his tongue. He grinned and pretended to swallow the key, preventing her from unlocking her lips. "You didn't say a single word to me as we walked. I knew something was wrong, and I knew you weren't going to tell me, so I just kept blabbering. About halfway through the walk, it was as if the skies opened up and poured out every ounce of water on our heads. It was the heaviest I had ever seen it rain in Neptune. We were soaking wet within 45 seconds and I looked at you petrified, because given your mood I didn't know how you were going to respond."

Logan looked down and saw Veronica's eyes were closed. "Veronica, did you fall asleep on me?" She opened her eyes, pursed her lips as if they were still locked and shook her head. He stared at her intently as he told the next part of the story.

"So, I looked at you, absolutely sure you were going to throw a fit, but you did the most amazing thing. You burst out laughing. And then you threw your backpack and books on the ground and started jumping in the water, and you grabbed my hand and made me do the same thing. The rest of the way to your house we jumped, and splashed, and I think we may have even sang at a certain point." He looked down at her again. "Do you remember?" She nodded her head.

"Well, any time it rains, and the air gets that fresh smell that it only does when it first starts to rain, I think of that day." Veronica tried to talk through her pursed lips, but it just came out with muffled noises. Logan sighed, pretended to take out a secret key from behind his ear, and unlocked her mouth. Before she could ask the question she was clearly dying to ask, Logan grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. He could feel her smiling as he kissed her, which caused him to smile in response. When they separated, Veronica asked, "Why is that a good memory? Because we had so much fun?"

"Yes. But mostly because it was the first time I ever remember wanting to kiss you." Logan could see from her expression that this was new information to her. He took his right index finger and gently traced over her eyelids, down her cheek and back to her lips again.

She kissed his fingertip, and moved to take his hand and hold it against her chest. "Why didn't you?"

"Veronica, you were dating Duncan."

She laughed softly. "Oh yeah." Veronica put her thumb nail in her mouth and bit down slightly, grinning at how the mere mention of Logan kissing her was enough to make her forget she had been dating someone else at the time. "It's a good thing you didn't, because I probably would have kissed you back, and that would have been a disaster."

"Maybe," he responded.

"You're right, that's a good memory." Veronica snuggled into his side and pulled the sheet behind her a little lower, exposing her bare back. She wrapped his arms behind her and looked up at him. "My turn," she said, before closing her eyes. Logan took the hint, and began rubbing his hands up and down her spine, grateful she had stayed despite his insistence earlier that he wanted to be alone. He watched her for several minutes and heard her breathing start to deepen.

"Veronica," he whispered.

"Hmmm?"

"What about you? What's a smell that reminds you of a happy memory?"

She spoke so softly he wasn't sure he heard her the first time. "You."

"What?"

"You."

Logan felt a lump rising in his throat. He looked down at the girl he was holding and thought that maybe he had found that thing. The thing he wanted between him and his brother. The thing that Keith and Veronica had. That knowing and being fully known.

He couldn't believe that he, just the person he was, could be a happy memory for someone. "So, why is that a happy smell? What does it remind you of?"

Just before she drifted off fully into sleep, he heard her answer, "Home."

**END FLASHBACK**

* * *

Lying in bed, the sleeve pressed up to her face, Veronica breathed in whatever traces of Logan remained and mulled over Alicia's words. She knew that Alicia had been right. She hadn't let go of Logan, not completely. And as sleep took over, and she sank further into the mattress, she acknowledged her true wants when it came to Logan, for the first time in a long time.

_I want him, not the memory of him, but him. _Now what, Veronica Mars? Now what?

* * *

**A/N 3: **What are your thoughts on the flashbacks? Are there too many? I have another couple planned for future chapters, but if they're not working then I'll cut them. I just want to try and fill in some of the gaps with what happened.

**A/N 4: **I have ideas of where I think the story is going to go, but I don't want to force any of the characters to do something that doesn't seem believable. All of that to say, if you have a direction you'd like to see this go, let me know!


	5. Chapter 5: Of Petulance

**A/N 1: **I'm so sorry for posting this and then removing it the following day. After getting some really fantastic feedback from a few of you, specifically ShanghaiLily, I was able to fix some of the problems w/ this chapter that I couldn't quite get my hands around. Even if you've read the previous version, I'd highly recommend reading this one, as it's much stronger and changes quite a bit about Logan and Veronica's kitchen interaction specifically.

**A/N 2:** I updated the previous chapters as well with some additional nuance and information. They briefly introduced a new character named Joanna. If it's not clear from this chapter who Joanna is, let me know and I'll PM you, although it should be obvious.

* * *

The following morning Veronica woke up suddenly from a dead sleep. All of her limbs felt heavy and weighed down like she hadn't moved once over the course of the night. She rolled over and looked at her bedside clock. 11:15 AM. Seeing the time, Veronica's eyes went wide at the realization she had slept more than 12 hours. She stretched out her limbs and begrudgingly sat up and rolled out of bed, putting her Stewie slippers on as she padded out of the room to go to the bathroom.

Slowly making her way to the kitchen, Veronica sniffed the air, hoping to smell bacon and eggs, and was a little disappointed to only smell the scent of the honey vanilla soap she had just used to wash her hands.

_Maybe dad was waiting to make breakfast until I got out of bed?_

She walked down the hall, expecting to see her dad at the breakfast island, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the Sunday paper. Instead she found an empty kitchen with the lights off, and the Sunday paper casually splayed across the island.

"Dad?" she called out. Veronica went back through the dining room, into the living room, and opened the front door to see that her dad's car was no longer parked in the driveway. Assuming he had gotten tired of waiting for her to wake up and opted to run a few errands, Veronica made her way back to the kitchen, hoping there was still coffee left in the pot.

She pulled a mug out of the cupboard, grabbed the half and half from the fridge, and gave up a silent hallelujah to see the pot was half full and the little red light was still on indicating it was hot. Next to the coffee pot, she saw a note, and her face scrunched up in displeasure recognizing her dad's handwriting.

_Good morning sleepyhead. Sorry to miss you, but I got an emergency call from Vinnie and he needed my help down at the station. Should be home by 5pm. I'm taking tomorrow off, so Monday will be father/daughter day._

"Shit." Veronica poured herself a cup of coffee and began rearranging her to-do list to accommodate this bump in her Neptune schedule. She had anticipated being able to spend time with her dad on Sunday, and while he was at the office on Monday make her way over to the Neptune post office to try and get some additional information for her own case. Now she'd have to wake up early the next day and make her way to the post office first thing to avoid suspicion. Mac was supposed to get into town on Saturday, and Veronica still needed to figure out exactly what to tell her in order to get her to help without having to reveal too much of what was going on.

_Come on, Veronica. If you just told your dad, you'd be able to solve this case faster and maybe actually enjoy your break._

Veronica shook the thought away. Never going to happen.

One thing was for sure. Despite her now open and available Sunday, she was in no uncertain terms going to see Logan. Yes, she had admitted to herself the previous evening she had not moved on. Yes, her heart beat a little more rapidly at the thought that he may still have feelings for her. Yes, a big part of her wanted to invite herself over to his house and just happen to wear her smallest bathing suit to go swimming in. But an even bigger part of her knew that she wasn't brave in the same ways Logan was.

Veronica had risked it all once, showing up on Logan's doorstep a few weeks after he had broken up with her their freshman year at Hearst. She had jumped into his arms, and they had spent three additional blissful weeks together. It was the best their relationship had been since that brief time their junior year of high school.

After each breakup with Logan, her heart felt like it had been both twisted and flattened. Some days she would forget how to breathe and she'd catch herself holding a breath to the point where it made her lungs ache before she'd finally exhale. She had spent close to 2 ½ years of her adolescence dating Duncan Kane, and yet neither of their break ups caused her close to the amount of pain she experienced hearing a 19 year old Logan accuse, 'you never need anything'.

Logan didn't know any of this. Hell, no one did. She thought that Wallace had suspected, but it was one secret she intended to take to the grave. And if she saw Logan any more than she had to while she was in Neptune, she wasn't certain she'd be able to act rationally. Screw closure. Her new goal was survival.

In their sixth counseling session, Joanna finally managed to get Veronica to talk about her relationship with Logan. She wanted Veronica to see that there was a direct correlation between the amount she was willing to risk and how happy she was. "The greater the risk, the greater the reward."

Veronica had smirked and rolled her eyes. "You mean greater the potential for total annihilation."

Coffee poured, Veronica sat down at the island in the kitchen and noticed that her dad had set aside her favorite sections of the paper. She settled into the peace of being in her dad's home and decided to enjoy her day despite the unexpected complications.

Postponing real news, Veronica started with the Sunday comics. It was while chuckling softly at that day's _Pearls Before Swine_ that Veronica heard the doorbell ring. She was almost certain that the doorbell was in her imagination, but then she heard it ring once more and she remembered she had texted Wallace and asked him to stop by.

Without looking through the peephole, Veronica opened the door to find Logan standing there, one hand casually picking a spot of wood on the door frame, with his head turned down looking at his feet.

_Intruder alert! Intruder alert! All Veronica Mars defense mechanisms man your battle stations. _

Veronica was all of a sudden painfully aware that she was wearing Logan's sweatshirt, Logan's boxers, and no bra. Thankfully he hadn't looked up to see her surprise, so she had a moment to readjust her countenance and affect disinterest at his sudden appearance.

"You're not my Wallace."

He smiled and lifted his head, his eyes naturally locking with hers. He took in her appearance and smiled even larger. "No, I'm not. But that is my sweatshirt."

"Actually you gave it to me, so it's my sweatshirt." Veronica crossed her arms, trying to hide the fact that the cool air was causing her to nip out under the almost threadbare hooded sweatshirt.

"Maybe, but those are definitely my boxers."

"Possession is nine tenths of the law. Let me guess, you were just in the neighborhood?"

Logan had stopped playing with the woodchip, and stood with his hands in his pockets. Veronica tried not to allow her eyes to drift over Logan and take in what he was wearing, but she couldn't help herself. He was wearing well fitted, dark wash jeans, and a lightweight heathered red hooded pullover. He looked put together, yet relaxed, and she wanted to punch him in the throat for not calling before he came over so she could at least brush her teeth.

"Actually, I was. I had an appointment a couple blocks away so I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"You mean you graced the 05 zip code with the Echolls presence on a Sunday morning? Whatever did the middle class of Neptune do to earn such an honor?"

Logan's face tensed slightly, and Veronica knew she had unintentionally struck a nerve. She didn't know if it was the mention of their difference in economic status, or the implication that she saw him as an elitist. After another second of silence, Veronica realized that Logan was tense because he was deciding what version of the truth to give her.

She heard him let out a small puff of air and figured he had settled on the whole truth. "I was at my counselor's office."

"Logan Echolls is in counseling? God, Logan. How long are your sessions? Three, maybe four hours?" Veronica knew she was one to talk, and that she had misguidedly responded with the first words that came to mind. The moment they left her mouth she knew that they were the wrong ones.

She saw Logan visibly flinch and his eyes narrowed just slightly. He took a step back and shook his head at her. "You know what, it's too damn early in the day for this."

He began to walk away and Veronica quickly lunged forward to grab his arm and stop him from leaving. "Logan, stop. I'm sorry. I just woke up 20 minutes ago and have barely had any coffee. Apparently my wit is extra acerbic in the mornings. No wonder Wallace usually waits to leave his room until I'm gone for the day."

Logan had stopped walking away but his eyes were still turned down. Veronica lightly tugged on his arm. "Please, Logan, come inside for a little bit." She moved her hand from his arm to his hand and began walking him inside. "Or you can stand out here and tear my dad's house apart wood chip by wood chip. It's your choice." She let go and he wordlessly followed her, stepping aside to allow her to shut and lock the front door. Veronica swallowed, and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"The kitchen is through there, and there's plenty of coffee. Make yourself at home. I'm just going to go get dressed real quick." She nudged his shoulder slightly to get him going in the right direction, and then hastily made her exit to her room. There wasn't any time to conceive of an ensemble that would cause him to steel his breath, but there was time to put something on that made her feel less naked.

_Avoidance works a lot better when the person you're avoiding doesn't just show up at your house._

She settled on a t-shirt and jeans, and made her way quickly to the bathroom to throw her hair up into a ponytail and brush her teeth. What she needed was for time to slow down. She needed to have an hour, a day, a month to figure out what to do next. But Logan was sitting in her kitchen now, and the damn clock kept ticking.

She walked into the kitchen and smiled seeing him at the island, idly flipping through the sports section of the paper. She noticed he had taken her up on her offer of coffee. Logan looked up as she walked in, his eyes hard and guarded. But then he took in the complete sight of Veronica Mars and his expression softened.

"Nice t-shirt. Is it ironic, or a tribute to Back Up?"

The third official member of the Mars family had been put down the previous year and while her dad kept mentioning getting a new dog had yet to do so. Veronica looked down, having already forgotten which t-shirt she had selected, and saw that it was her v-neck featuring a large picture of a pit-bull. It had the words "Young and Reckless" in large print across the top.

Veronica smiled back and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe a little bit of both." She felt sitting next to Logan would be a bad idea, so she opted to resume her position from the previous evening and leaned over the side of the island across from him. She reached forward for her coffee cup, and realized she was unintentionally allowing Logan a clear view down the front of her shirt. Veronica pulled back, a faint blush rose to her cheeks, and she hoped that if Logan noticed he wouldn't think she was trying to repeat her antics from the previous day.

"You okay, Veronica?" Logan asked, raising his coffee mug to his lips to take a sip.

"Peachy keen."

"You mentioned Wallace when you opened the door. Is he supposed to come over?"

"Unfortunately I left one of my text books in his carry on and forgot to grab it from him before we parted ways. He promised he'd drop it off this morning."

Logan slowly shook his head and pursed his lips in mock disapproval. "What's that saying about all work and no play?"

"Hey, it may make Veronica a dull girl, but this dull girl is at the front of the pack. I _was_ supposed to hang out with my dad today, but he got called in by Vinnie."

"That means you got what you wanted, right? Your dad distracted so you could do whatever you needed to this Christmas break?"

Veronica didn't try to deny that she had ulterior motives. Logan had figured it out, and there wasn't any point in pretending he hadn't. "I wanted him distracted, slightly, not guilty of reckless abandonment."

Logan laughed and raised an eyebrow at her, taking a sip of his coffee. "You always want it all, don't you Mars?"

Veronica was pleased she had just proven to herself she could speak more than a single sentence to Logan without unintentionally or intentionally cutting him down. But, the world renowned Veronica Mars curiosity wouldn't allow her to keep the conversation light for long. "So, uh, your counselor's office is nearby?"

He sat his mug down and began to slowly rotate it between his hands. "Nice segue." He had raised his eyebrow as he spoke and didn't even try to hide his sarcasm. "Yeah, it is." He looked up and saw her forehead scrunched up, trying to put together pieces of a puzzle. "Is that surprising?"

_Not any more surprising than the fact that I've been seeing a counselor for the past six months._

"Yeah. No. I mean, a little. I figured 09ers only allowed their own kind to shrink their heads."

_Damn it, Veronica! Logan is trying to have a relatively barb free conversation with you this morning and you just can't keep it together._

For the second time that morning, Veronica opened her mouth to apologize, but was cut off by Logan's smirk and an explanation. "The last thing I need is some elitist asshole charging me $500 an hour solely to use me as an anecdote in whatever pseudo pop-psychology book he's currently writing or to use his position as my doctor to weasel an appearance on Oprah. The 05 zip is just fine with me."

"Do you always meet on Sundays?"

"Yeah. It may be a little paranoid, but I don't want to risk some low life looking to score a quick buck taking my photo in the waiting room. My counselor, Thomas, opens up the office just for me on Sundays."

Not for the first time, Veronica was reminded that Logan's life had always been tinted with shades of the peculiar. Having known Logan as long as she had, she always saw his wealth and status as simply an attribute of what made him him. Just like his brown eyes and dark hair were parts of him, so was his wealth. His eye color, while decidedly splendid, didn't define him, and she never thought his trust fund did either. She forgot that not everyone saw it that way.

Veronica leaned back and took her coffee mug with her after hearing this latest admission. She nodded her head, and turned back to the coffee pot to pour herself a little more. "How long have you been in counseling, if you don't mind me asking?"

Logan cleared his throat, and paused again before answering. "A little over a year and a half."

Veronica felt her body tense. It couldn't be a coincidence that Logan started to see a counselor just about the same time the two of them had stopped communicating, could it? She wondered if Logan's counselor had convinced him she was an unhealthy person to be around and that's why he had all but cut her out of his life.

_Calm down, Veronica. Breathe. _

Veronica took a sip of her coffee and allowed the hot liquid to slowly ease its way down her throat. She turned around and smiled, as if this information didn't at all surprise her. She was determined to be the picture of ease.

"Has it helped?"

"I'd like to think so. But, you'd really have to ask the people in my life. They'd be better able to answer that question than I am."

"Are you still a jackass who can't stop himself from making the low blow comment?"

"Of course."

"And do you pride yourself in making almost anything a sexual innuendo?"

Logan laughed good naturedly at her teasing. "Naturally."

"Do you still have an unnatural fascination with wearing the color orange?" She scrunched her nose at the memory and he could almost see her brain conjuring the image of him in orange cargo pants.

"No, thank God. House fire, remember?"

"Oh yes. Do you still prefer to punch first, talk later?"

Logan went from silly to serious in a moment and he looked down at his mug, almost embarrassed, or maybe pained at a memory. "You still see me that way?"

Veronica didn't know how to respond. _Shit. Apology number three?_

Again, Logan interrupted her thought process. "I haven't gotten into a fight in close to two years, Veronica. I never have more than two drinks when I go out, don't try to drive while intoxicated, floss my teeth daily, and always help grandmothers cross the street."

"Logan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything, I just don't know much about your life right now."

"And yet you feel like you have the right to comment on anything and everything?"

Veronica felt properly reprimanded and she placed her mug carefully on the counter. She self-consciously rubbed her right hand up and down her left arm. If it hadn't been her father's house, she would have left.

She heard Logan clear his throat and she felt it in her gut more sharply than any punch. He could tell she wanted to leave and he was commanding her attention. "So, what do you think Veronica? Now that I've answered your questions, do you think counseling has helped me?"

In their brief interactions over the past two days, neither had dared to touch the subject of their prolonged absence in one another's lives. To bring it up meant that it would need to be addressed, and while Veronica had every intention of addressing it during her time in Neptune, she had wanted to do it in her own way and on her own terms. At Logan's question, Veronica had forgotten that she had ever resolved to do such a thing. "Logan, I haven't really been a fixture in your life for a while now. What the hell do I know?"

Logan locked Veronica in place with his stare, not smiling, but not quite scowling either. It was the same stare he would fix on her their junior year of high school when his feelings toward her had begun to thaw. When they weren't quite enemies but not quite lovers. She felt like he was sizing her up, but she didn't know what he was looking for.

Veronica wasn't feeling like herself. She had been so certain when she left Chicago that this would be the trip where she would end things with Logan once and for all. Then she had been even more certain when she had woken up that day that that was an absurd notion and what she really needed was to stay away from him. What the hell did Joanna know? She had only gotten her PhD in Psychology from Stanford.

And now, with Logan proving with every word that while he was still Logan he wasn't the same jackass she had left behind her freshman year of college, she just wanted him to leave. She was about to make a lame excuse as to why he needed to go, when the distinct and loud sound of her stomach grumbling broke the silence and Logan laughed.

"What do you have in there? An alien baby?"

"Ugh, no, but I went to bed on a full stomach and that always makes me a million times hungrier the next day."

Logan stood up and Veronica thought for a second that he had read her thoughts and opted to leave. She was surprised when he walked over to her and grabbed her hand, bringing her back to the side of the island he was just sitting on and indicated he wanted her to sit down.

"Sit. I'll make us some breakfast."

Veronica gasped in fake astonishment. "Logan Echolls cooks? What will it be this morning? Pop Tarts or peanut butter toast?"

"Actually, smarty pants, I was thinking of poached eggs, avocado and roasted red potatoes if that works for you."

Veronica couldn't hide the look of surprise her face currently held. Again, Logan laughed. "I may always be a jackass, but now I'm a jackass who knows how to cook." His comment put Veronica at ease. She had no idea why, but he was allowing all of the verbal missiles she had launched that morning to go without explanation or equivocation and now he was going to make her breakfast. Counseling looked good on him.

"Since when?"

"About a year ago. It was an assignment from Thomas. He challenged me to do something that I had always avoided because I assumed I wouldn't be any good at it."

"So, cooking? Did Wolfgang Puck fly down south for the winter to give you lessons?"

"No, it was Weevil's grandma."

Veronica choked slightly on the sip of coffee she had just taken. "You have to stop doing things that surprise me, Logan! My heart can't take it."

"I like surprising you."

"Wait, so if Mrs. Navarro taught you how to cook, does that mean…?"

"Yes, I now have the Navarro family recipe for chicken posole."

"And does that mean…?"

"Yes, if you're a very good girl and eat all of your vegetables, I will make you some while you're in town." Logan raised a finger and pointed it at her. "Maybe."

Veronica bounced slightly on her seat and rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Oh, I will! I can almost taste it now." Veronica's stomach grumbled again, even more loudly than before. "Uh oh, I think my alien baby fetus just split and is now twins."

"You read the paper and drink your coffee, I'll make breakfast."

"Can I help?"

"Please don't." Veronica had to resist the very juvenile urge to stick her tongue out at him, and instead took him up on his offer. She grabbed the local section of the paper to flip through to read all the fluff stories. After a few minutes she looked up to observe Logan in her dad's kitchen. His back was turned to her, so she could watch him unguarded.

He moved around her dad's kitchen easily as he filled a pot with water and placed it on the stove top. She watched for a few minutes longer and then narrowed her eyes at his back: he knew where everything was. He instinctively opened the second drawer down beside the stove to pull out a slotted spoon for the poached eggs, the cupboard above the stove for the vinegar, the cupboard below and to the right for the box of kosher salt, and the bread from the breadbox on the far side of the counter.

Unable to withhold a comment any longer, Veronica interrupted his concentration. "So, you seem to know your way around my dad's kitchen pretty well."

She sat the paper down and folded her arms on the island. Logan looked casually over one shoulder to see her watching him. He smiled before turning back to the stove, preheated the oven, and then joined Veronica at the island where he began to slice potatoes.

"I like your dad's kitchen. It's homey."

"Am I to guess that part of Mrs. Navarro's training was providing schematics for a well-organized kitchen?"

Logan continued to slice potatoes as he answered her, "No, but your dad has had me over for dinner a few times and I've helped him cook a little. And then I insisted I make family dinner a couple weeks ago to thank him for everything he's been doing for my case."

Veronica's face hardened and she gripped her folded arms firmly across her chest. "Family dinner? As in with my dad, Alicia, and Darrell?"

"That's the one." When Veronica didn't say anything, Logan looked up and saw her clearly displeased expression. He frowned at the sudden change.

"Huh! Interesting!" She managed to spit out.

Logan continued to prep breakfast, consciously aware that something he had said upset her. He'd look up occasionally to see her staring angrily out the window, clearly trying to decide if what she intended to say was worth it, and always electing to stay quiet. After a few close calls where he nearly sliced a finger while trying to figure out where he had gone wrong, he just focused on making breakfast, and hoped Veronica would open up while eating.

Veronica had no intentions of opening up. She knew she was being uncharacteristically transparent. That even if Logan hadn't been as tuned into her own emotions as he was his own that he would still have known something was wrong, but she couldn't make herself care. Interacting with Logan always made her feel like all her emotions had been sandblasted and left vulnerable to the elements. But hearing from him directly that he had been included in family dinner while no longer making any effort towards her to be _her_ family specifically, made her feel like her already raw emotions had opened up into gaping wounds.

Veronica was startled from her introspection by the sound of the doorbell. Without a sidelong glance or a word, she ran into the living room and opened the door to find Wallace standing there holding her text book. Before he could say anything, Veronica grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him into her dad's house.

"Geez, Veronica, what's gotten you all agro?"

She let go of his collar and put a finger to her lips. "Shh, Wallace, not so loud. Logan is in the kitchen and I need your help to get rid of him."

Wallace simply rolled his eyes and massaged his brow as if a migraine had spontaneously developed. "What'd he do now?"

Veronica's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms again. "Nothing," she said bitterly. "He did absolutely nothing."

"Wait, let me put that through my Veronica translator. Processing. Processing. 'He did absolutely nothing' means that he didn't do something he was supposed to do? Is that it?"

Veronica grabbed his arm and stepped close to him. "He's in there making breakfast now. You won't have to say anything, just nod your head and smile."

"Fine, against my better judgment I'll help, but I'd like to encourage you to go with the friendliest dismissal possible because tomorrow morning you're going to realize you're acting like a crazy person and the less you have to apologize for, the better." Wallace looked down and noticed Veronica's t-shirt. He chuckled quietly. "Well, you definitely got the reckless part right."

Veronica gave off a quiet huff of frustration and grabbed his arm, pulling Wallace towards the kitchen. Before taking the final step to face Logan, she took a few deep breaths, and then strode in casually.

"Logan, I am so sorry, but I forgot I told Wallace that if he brought me back my text book, I'd pay him back with lunch."

Logan looked at the pair who had just entered the kitchen and immediately knew he was being fed a lie. While Veronica was an accomplished liar, Wallace looked like he'd pay good money to be anywhere but in the middle of whatever was going on between him and Veronica. Wallace gave Logan a pathetic wave and looked behind him to the front door, as if he was trying to calculate whether or not he could outrun Veronica and be freed from this awkward moment.

Logan had just finished coating the potatoes in olive oil and seasoning them. He was about to put them in the oven, but instead placed the still cool pan on top of the stove top. "Why don't we just eat here? There's plenty for three." He crossed his arms in challenge and looked Veronica straight in the eye.

Veronica held his stare and crossed her own arms against her chest. "Unfortunately, Wallace had his heart set on a burger from Rick's. He was very insistent. Weren't you Wallace?" Logan looked at Wallace and smirked. Wallace was now sitting down at the island, finishing off Veronica's coffee, and flipping through the sports section. Logan could have sworn he heard Wallace quietly speak, "Leave me out of this."

"You're absolutely right, Veronica." Logan gestured to Wallace with one hand and clutched his forehead with the other, throwing his head back. "Look at him! He is chomping at the bit to get out of here. He is clearly wildly uncomfortable. You better go now."

Logan turned and pulled a container of saran wrap from one of the drawers, covered the potatoes, and threw them in the fridge. "Good to see you, Wally F."

"You too, Logie Bear. We still on for Friday?"

"Yeah, but I may have to work late, so let's push it to 8pm."

"Sounds good, man, see you then." Logan saluted him with two fingers then put his own coffee mug in the sink.

Veronica gaped at Wallace, and he simply winked at her.

Veronica stepped close to Wallace and lowered her voice, putting her mouth close to his ear "What the hell was that?"

"Hey, you may have put the kibosh on being friends with Logan, but some of us still like the guy."

She shook her head at Wallace, willing him to be on her side. "Wallace, you don't understand…" She trailed off when she remembered Logan was probably standing five feet behind her, but then frowned when she noticed that he had already left the kitchen. She walked quickly out to the living room.

"So, now you can't even manage to say goodbye?"

Logan closed the door a little more loudly than he intended and spun around to look at her. "Veronica, did I do something? Because one minute we were laughing and having a good time, and the next you're doing a pretty terrible job of covering up the fact that you want me out of your dad's house."

"It's complicated, Logan."

"Then uncomplicate it. Let's get dinner tomorrow. Catch up, like we said we wanted to."

"Sorry, I can't. Father/daughter day."

"Okay, how about Tuesday?"

Veronica simply shook her head 'no.' She needed to work on her case that day, and while her schedule could be rearranged, today had shown her she wasn't ready for closure with Logan, let alone 'catch up' time. Joanna would have to be content with the fact that Veronica hadn't killed the guy, but really that was the best she could do.

Logan pursed his lips and rubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. "Dammit, Veronica. What did I do?"

Veronica sidled close to him and patted his shoulder patronizingly. "Logan, you did absolutely nothing. Remember? Nothing's ever your fault."

"You know what, my initial instinct was right. It's too damn early for this. Call me when you're ready to be my friend again." He turned around and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch.

"Oh that's rich, Logan. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she threw back at him.

He quickly turned around on his heels and stared at her. "Look, I obviously did something to piss you off. Not sure how or what it was, but when you're ready to talk and stop acting like a petulant three year old, give me a call."

"Excuse me? I'm being petulant? Do you even know the definition of the word?"

"Sulky, and ill-tempered. Veronica Mars personified." Logan stormed off; heat and anger rolling off him in waves.

Veronica didn't bother to respond or counter that sulky and ill-tempered had actually been trademarked by Logan Echolls in 2004. When she closed the door the tight band of control she had placed around her emotions while Logan was there snapped. She slapped the door frame several times with an open palm, and kicked it once for good measure.

"Well, that seemed to go well."

She jumped at the sound of Wallace's voice, having forgotten he was still there. Veronica turned around and marched past him, pointing a finger threateningly as she walked into the kitchen. "Don't start with me, Wallace."

Not at all scared of her threats, Wallace followed her as she fumed and angrily opened drawers and shut them louder than necessary. "Looking for something, V?"

"I'm hungry, and Logan was making me food, and then he started acting like an ass hat, and I'm still hungry." She stomped to the refrigerator, grabbed the pan of potatoes Logan had prepared, pulled off the saran wrap, turned the oven back on, and threw them in. She took an apple from the fruit bowl on the island and sat down with a huff.

"Sorry to interrupt what is clearly shaping up to be a fantastic tantrum, but Darrell is outside in the car waiting for me. We need to do all our Christmas shopping."

Veronica waved a hand at him dismissively. "Don't mind me. Just go."

Wallace walked over to Veronica and threw an arm around her shoulder. "Call me if you need to vent later." He released her shoulder and headed for the front door to show himself out, but not before throwing out one last comment. "He's a good guy, Veronica. I haven't always thought so, but I like the guy he is now."

He left the kitchen and Veronica groaned, slapping her head down on the cool granite of the island.

_I do too, and that's part of the problem. Damn Logan Echolls._

* * *

Veronica felt like a caged animal, pacing back and forth in every room, sitting down for 20 minutes at a time before jumping up to do something in a different room, only to repeat the same cycle. After Wallace left she ate more than half of the pan of potatoes and made a peanut butter sandwich to accompany it. She considered throwing out all of the avocadoes in the house simply because Logan had even mentioned them, but thought it might be going to extremes. Veronica managed to focus long enough to take notes and make flashcards for the first chapter of her genetics book, but focusing for that long simply wound her up even more.

Donning a pair of shorts and a tank top, Veronica grabbed her iPod and a house key and made her way to the beach. She loved her room at her dad's house, but her absolute favorite thing about it was that it was only a mile away from the beach, so she could run down to and then along the beach without having to bring her car. She selected the playlist she and Wallace had created for the half marathon they ran their first year in Chicago and lost herself in the driving down beats of the songs and the feeling of her feet hitting first pavement, and then as she ran further, hard and compressed sand. Veronica ran until her side ached, and then ran further until the ache had subsided. She looked at her iPod and saw she was on track 18, and she hadn't yet skipped a track. She was still pissed. So she kept running.

Veronica did her best to avoid thinking about anything other than her body moving because every time she did she saw damn Logan Echolls looking damn adorable preparing what was bound to be a damned good breakfast. Her lungs started to ache from the fast pace she had set, but she increased her pace even more. After another two minutes of a full out sprint in time to the rhythm of the song she was listening to, she stopped, hinged at the waist, and put her hands on her knees, taking in as much oxygen as possible. She stood up and began to walk in small circles to regulate her heart beat, and then for the first time her brain consciously recognized the song she was listening to and the lyrics rang in her ears:

_I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her / I'm right over here, why can't you see me?_

Veronica ripped the head phones out of her ears and threw them down on the ground, along with her iPod not caring if she broke either. She stomped her foot once, gave out a scream of frustration, and then unceremoniously flopped herself backwards onto the sand, one hand put over her eyes to block out the sun. She felt like she might be on the brink of a complete and total nervous breakdown.

_I'm going crazy and I'm getting there in a jet plane._

Veronica felt her sun being blocked and she didn't care who was standing over her, she just wanted them to leave. Before she could spit out an oft-used idiom that encouraged sexual intercourse with one's self, she heard the voice of the person who had driven her to her desperate run.

"I see we've moved on from petulant three year old and are now regressing to the terrible twos."

"Go away, Logan."

"Frustrated are we? If it's sexual let me know, and I can arrange a time to help you with that."

Veronica fisted a handful of sand and threw it in the general direction of the voice. "You show up at my dad's office, my dad's house, and now the beach. I'm thinking of taking out a restraining order."

"Which the judge will throw out as soon as I mention you put a tracker on my car."

Veronica still had her eyes closed but took the hand off of her face and held up two fingers. "Two trackers, actually." She heard Logan laugh in genuine amusement and she smiled lying on the sand.

Veronica loved happy Logan. Despite his current kindness towards her, she had put her heart on the line two years prior, and he had said no thank you. She couldn't get attached again. She wouldn't let herself.

"Besides, Veronica, anyone can tell that I was here first." Veronica opened her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows to see Logan standing in front of her with his hair mussed, the top half of his wet suit pulled down, and holding a surfboard.

_Damn Logan Echolls with his damn abs._

"You went surfing? You hate surfing in the afternoon."

Logan ruffled his hair with his free hand and gave a slight shrug. "Well, you weren't the only one who was feeling frustrated." He held a hand out to Veronica and she took it. With one quick motion he had her standing on both her feet. She dropped his hand and then picked up her iPod, now conscious of the fact that she may have broken it. She turned it over a couple times and saw it was relatively unscathed.

"I should head home," she said to no one in particular.

"I'm leaving too. I'll walk you to your car."

"Not necessary, I ran here."

"Holy shit, Veronica? You ran here?! That's gotta be more than eight miles from your dad's house."

She looked at Logan and smiles. "Yeah, well, I didn't really plan it. I just felt like running."

Logan grimaced and gestured at her with his head to follow him. "Come on, Forrest Gump, I'm giving you a ride home."

"Logan, you don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm going to." Logan started walking in the direction of his car, and it pissed Veronica off to no end that he just assumed that she would follow after him. Before she realized it, she was doing just that.

They reached Logan's car, neither saying a word to one another. Logan unlocked the car, and Veronica sat in the passenger seat, waiting for Logan to secure his surfboard to the roof and change out of his wet suit. As uncomfortable as she felt sitting in Logan's car, sweaty from running for more than an hour, she was grateful she wouldn't have to make the long walk home. She hadn't really thought about the consequences of running full speed ahead in one direction. Veronica was starting to get antsy waiting for Logan, and she looked outside to see him take off his wet suit and throw a hooded sweatshirt on before opening the back door and tossing in his duffel bag.

He opened the driver side door and slid in, handing Veronica a water bottle as he did.

"You're not changing?" she asked.

"Nah. I'll just wait to do it at home." He started the car and left the parking lot, knowing he only had 20 minutes before he reached her dad's place to have this conversation. "So, are we going to talk about why you were so upset earlier?"

"No."

Logan could feel the heat rise to his cheeks and he willed himself to take a few breaths and calm down. "Why not?"

Veronica was looking out the window, twisting and untwisting the cap of the water bottle, occasionally taking a sip. "Because I don't want to," she answered softly.

There didn't seem to be anything else to say, so Veronica didn't offer another answer, and Logan didn't bother to ask another question. The short drive ended in silence.

When he pulled into the Mars' driveway, Veronica unbuckled her seat belt before he had even put the car into park. Her eyes never met his and her voice was barely audible when she muttered a simple, "Thanks" and opened the car door.

Logan was reeling. Four hours earlier, she was prickly. She went from prickly to friendly pretty quickly, and then friendly to dismissive even faster. Now she was morose and it was all pissing him off to no end.

_I can't keep letting her do this to me._

Logan grabbed Veronica's hand and pulled her to face him before she could leave the car. "Veronica, if this is how it's going to be while you're in town, then maybe we don't need to spend any time catching up."

Veronica pursed her lips, nodded, and then exited Logan's car, quietly shutting the door behind her. He watched her as she untied her running shoe, removed the key from the lace, and entered her house. He sat in his car for close to a minute, reminding himself to breathe in and out. Everything had to be on Veronica's terms, and she had made her terms this time painfully clear.

_Alright, Veronica. I'm done._

He pulled out of the Mars' driveway, certain that this time he was really going to be able to let her go.

* * *

Veronica stood in the shower, allowed the hot water to cascade down her back, and leaned her head against the cool tile. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

She knew she had just effectively pushed Logan away and that she had made it abundantly clear she didn't even want his friendship. The thing was she didn't _want _his friendship; she _craved _it. She had been strong for so long in so many areas of her life, but the thought of sitting Logan down and demanding an explanation as to why he cut her out of his life almost two years ago made her feel weak and defenseless.

Since the first time they dated, Logan had been abundantly clear on what he wanted from Veronica: love, romance, matching tattoos. Veronica was less clear on what she wanted from Logan and more times than not offered him friendship in return for his declarations of love. But now he was the one offering friendship and it felt like a slap in the face. She told herself if she couldn't have him the way she wanted, it was best to push him away; otherwise both of them would get hurt.

She got out of the shower and made her way to her bedroom to get dressed. She towel dried her hair and heard her dad open the front door and lock it behind him. He was forty-five minutes late, but it was more on time than she had been expecting.

She twisted her hair up off her neck and fastened it with half a dozen bobby pins before heading to the kitchen where she knew she'd find him with a glass of milk and half a dozen of the cookies she had baked in her post-run haze. Not one to disappoint, there he was sitting at the counter, currently dunking a cookie into the coffee mug of milk.

"Well, I'd ask how your day was, but I'm currently eating the fruits of your labor."

Veronica responded with a tight lipped smile. She had been tempted to slip laxatives into the cookie mix to get back at her dad for withholding some key information from her, but having been accused of acting like both a three year old and a two year old in one day, she wanted to avoid any additional allusions to behaving like a frat boy.

"How was work?" She grabbed a cookie for herself and bit in with a little more force than necessary.

"Pretty good. We made lots of progress on the case I'm helping with. I'll tell you all about it at dinner; see if those deductive reasoning skills are still as sharp as they used to be. What'd you do today, besides baking these wonderful pillows of sugary confection?"

Veronica placed both palms on the counter and affected an easy expression. "Not too much. Slept in, studied for a little bit, went for a run."

"Sounds nice."

"Mmmhmm. It was. Before I went on my run your new best friend forever Logan Echolls stopped by. He said it was to see me, but I think it was actually to see if you were free for another man date sometime soon."

Keith swallowed his bite of cookie. "Logan mentioned he's come over a few times for dinner, huh?"

"And that he cooked for family dinner. You know, the family that I thought I was a part of, and was unaware now included Logan."

"So the two of you caught up?"

"Yeah, a little. And then we humped like monkeys right on the counter where you're sitting." To emphasize her point she put both hands behind her head and gave a small pelvic thrust.

Keith pushed back from the counter suddenly, almost stumbling to the ground, and knocking the stool over in the process.

"Veronica Anne Mars!"

"Don't worry, daddy. No glove no love. And we disinfected the counter afterwards." Veronica looked off into the distance to try and capture the memory. "I think."

"Please tell me you're joking."

Veronica smirked at him and placed a hand on her chest, taking on a shy and coquettish demeanor. "What, dad? Would that make you upset? To find out that your daughter and Logan Echolls had a secret relationship that you knew nothing about, only to have one member of that relationship unceremoniously drop a bomb on you?"

Veronica backed herself up to the counter beside the stove top and placed her hands behind to jump up and sit down. She leaned back and allowed her legs to dangle off the side of the counter, moving them slightly back and forth. Her dad was still standing by the island, staring at the counter top. She laughed and was moved to take pity on him. "We didn't have sex, dad. I got mad at him, kicked him out of the house, and then we had a rather tense run in on the beach later. It was all depressingly familiar."

"Sweetie, throwing Logan Echolls out of the house is my move. Get your own thing."

Veronica laughed again and looked up to see her dad staring at her. If she didn't know better, she would think it was pity she saw in his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask a question, and then thought better of it, allowing her to continue to talk.

"Why didn't you tell me dad?"

Keith put the stool upright under the counter but chose not to sit back down. While he knew Veronica had just intended to get a rise out of him, the idea of her and Logan having sex where he ate breakfast was a little more than he could handle.

"Sweetie, you made it pretty clear a couple years ago that Logan was an off-limits topic of conversation." She opened her mouth to disagree with him. "You know it's true. You didn't exactly plug your ears and shout, but it didn't seem above you to do so."

Veronica nodded her understanding and didn't bother to refute what he was saying.

"Come on, kid. I can't tell you everything, but I'll tell you what I can." He walked over to where Veronica was perched and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the living room where the two could sit comfortably on the couch.

"Logan came to me about two months ago and asked me to investigate something for him. I refused to let him pay, so he made me promise his case would be my last priority after my work at the sheriff station and any paying cases that came in. When I found a little piece of information a couple weeks later, I called him in and the two of us got to talking. I know that you know this, Veronica, but he doesn't really have a family. So I had him over to the house and we grilled steaks. And then I had him over two or three other times. Just dinner and some sports talk."

Veronica didn't know why, but she could feel tears start to build in the corners of her eyes. "What you're investigating for him must be really bad, huh?" She looked up, her bottom lip trembling just slightly despite her best efforts to will it still. "It's pretty bad?"

Keith smiled sadly and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen from her twist behind her ear. "Not worse than anything else he's experienced."

"That doesn't instill me with much confidence, dad."

"Logan wanted to return the favor and make dinner for me, so I invited him to family dinner without thinking. I didn't mean to keep it a secret, and then I didn't know how to bring it up."

For a long time all Veronica had wanted was for her dad to accept and know Logan and now it seemed like he was well on his way. But she wasn't a part of it. "You promise that when he's come over, the two of you haven't talked…have the two of you talked about…" Veronica trailed off and then gestured to herself, embarrassed at what she was asking.

"No. Although I know he's wanted to."

"You know more about his life right now than I do."

"Come on, sweetie, let's go get some dinner. Emotions always feel less extreme when one has a belly full of food. I'm thinking we can go to Luigi's. They changed the recipe…"

"…of their Tiramisu. I know. I hear it's good." Keith laughed, not certain how she got this information, but not at all surprised she was one step ahead as always. She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear and forced herself to smile, although it was thin and didn't reach her eyes. "Let me just grab my coat and then we can go."

Veronica stood up and noticed the sad look her dad was throwing her way. "Dad, I'm fine. Just let me have the ride to Luigi's to stare despondently out the window, and then I'll be back to my old self." She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "I promise."

He watched her go and shook his head both at her and himself. He was foolish to think that things with her and Logan would snap into place easily. It was clear that he didn't have as many facts about their relationship as he had thought. He felt certain that each of them still had feelings for the other, but for some reason neither believed the other reciprocated. He had kept his word to Veronica and done his best to never mention her to Logan, but he was beginning to see this was one area where listening to his daughter wasn't the best course of action. Keith stood up to grab his keys and as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket, mused to himself.

_When did I become a fan of Logan Echolls?_

* * *

**A/N 3: **I'd love you feedback, so please review, review, review. I am not at all offended by constructive criticism. In fact, it fuels me like no other, so bring it on. You won't be able to review if you've already reviewed chapter five, but feel free to PM me with any thoughts.

**A/N 4: **If you read the previous version of this chapter, you've noticed this one doesn't include the postcard flashback, but that will be in the next chapter. Fixing this chapter added about 1,000 words so it was too long w/ the postcard flashback.


	6. Chapter 6: Of Postcards

**A/N 1: **Half of this chapter was in my original chapter five, but it has been altered quite a bit so I'd strongly encourage a re-read if you have time. I promise I won't post things again until I feel 100% about them.

**A/N 2: **Thanks for all of your support and reviews! I received some really helpful constructive criticism which I took under advisement and I hope it made this chapter stronger. Enjoy!

* * *

On the way home from Luigi's, Veronica was in a fit of rage. It was the sort of driving anger that caused Keith to inventory his actions for the past six months just to make sure he hadn't done anything that she could now use against him. She had been silent for about thirty seconds, but then found her voice with a new list of complaints. "I mean, where do they get off pulling this kind of crap? And everyone is just letting them get away with it. Seriously, dad, where is the justice?"

"I know, Veronica, I know."

"I mean, changing the Tiramisu recipe is completely acceptable. It was an upgrade, but I don't care how much they insist otherwise, what I ate was not bruschetta."

"It was one of many…"

"Not you too dad, not you too. Bruschetta is tomatoes, and garlic, and olive oil. Not eggplant, and definitely not goat cheese." Veronica paused. "My ravioli was delicious, though."

"So Luigi's will live to serve the people of Neptune another day."

"Yeah, I suppose." Veronica was silent for a few minutes as she watched the city go by in the almost completely dark night. "I miss having a car."

"Anytime you want the Saturn in Chicago let me know and I can drive it out."

"I don't know how to drive in the snow."

Keith pulled his car into the driveway and turned to look at his daughter. "You have it in you to watch a movie?"

"Only if I get both popcorn and ice cream."

"Second dessert?"

"If the Hobbits can do second breakfast than the Mars family can do second dessert."

They both opened their car doors and stepped into the pool of light that had been activated by the automatic sensors on her dad's garage light. True to her word, Veronica's mood had substantially improved when they had gotten to the restaurant. Keith could tell that Veronica had made a decision about her relationship with Logan, and his guess was that based on her improved mood it was a positive decision. He hoped that if he asked he might get a straight answer from her.

Veronica made it to the door first, and opened both locks with her key. "You pop the popcorn, daddio. I'll meet you in the living room in 10 minutes. Just want to change clothes."

Veronica went straight to her room and pulled out a pair of sweats from the wardrobe. She wanted to get as ready for bed as possible in case she got too tired to finish the movie.

She had told her dad 10 minutes, but her whole wind-down routine took closer to 20 minutes, and when she walked out of the bathroom she was not surprised to see her dad standing in her room. She was surprised to find him staring at the postcard she had brought from Chicago. He had been intrigued by it the previous evening, and it seemed as if he was going to ask her about it again.

Rather than be bombarded by his questions, Veronica bit the bullet and volunteered the information. "Logan sent that to me junior year at UCLA."

Keith kept his eyes on the postcard and Veronica moved around her room, hanging up the jeans she had worn out to dinner, placing clothes in the hamper, and then eventually coming to stand beside her dad.

"You and Logan trade a lot of postcards?"

"Yeah, quite a few. Not so much lately, but a lot junior and senior year."

Her dad looked down at her with a bemused expression. Neither she nor Logan had mentioned this to him. "Why'd you bring it with you?"

"I told you. Poirot is my guardian angel." Keith looked at her and raised one eyebrow. "Because it's my favorite postcard Logan ever sent me."

"Why is that?" Veronica leaned forward and removed the postcard from the bulletin board. She wordlessly handed it to her father and sat down on her bed.

Keith flipped over the postcard and saw a short note in Logan's handwriting. Although she had clearly intended for him to read it, Keith glanced at Veronica to make sure it was okay. She gave a half smile and a quick nod, and he read the note that apparently held such significance for his daughter.

_As a P.I., Hercule Poriot has solved close to 100 cases. Amateur. –Logan_

Keith flipped the postcard over. Surely there had to be more to it than that, right? This postcard was significant enough to warrant his daughter traveling with it, and yet there were less than fifteen words, all quippy, with the exception of the boy's name. Even then, Keith imagined that if Logan could find a way to write a capital 'L' ironically he would have.

Veronica saw her dad's expression as he posted the card back up on the bulletin board and she knew he didn't get it. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she got it most days.

"So, why is that your favorite?"

"I don't really know. I guess because it reminds me of who I am. Or was. It reminds me that I was good at something, or at least Logan thought that I was good at something, and it makes me hope that maybe I'll be good at something like that again."

Keith made his way over to Veronica and sat down beside her. He took both of her hands in his and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Do you miss being a PI?"

"Some days, yes, but some days, no. I miss the puzzle, and I miss working with you."

"But the cheating husbands, dumpster diving, and bad stake out coffee?"

"Not so much." Veronica looked at her dad and wasn't certain how far she should push the honesty thing. She swallowed and went for broke. "I thought medical school would be the same kind of puzzle, but it's not. It's…well it's different, I guess."

"Remember how you asked me a question yesterday and requested that I answer it without any follow up questions?" Veronica groaned, pulled her hands from her dad and gave him a light shove away from her.

"Let me guess. Tit for tat?"

"They are the rules we live by, sweetie. Do you still have feelings for Logan?"

Veronica opened her mouth several times to answer, and finally gave up, simply nodding her head slightly.

"You planning to tell him?"

The whole 'not speaking thing' seemed to go so well for her the first time she opted to just shake her head no.

"Why not?"

"Dad, I think we're stretching the limits of tit for tat, here."

"Maybe, but need I remind you…"

In a voice filled with as much male bravado as she could muster, Veronica finished, "…my house, my rules. I know." Veronica was playing with the cuticles of one hand with the thumbnail of her othe. She was about to admit something that she was afraid put her in a pretty bad light, and earning her dad's displeasure was not something that excited her.

"I don't want to get into our whole history, dad, but by the time Logan and I started dating our junior year of high school…"

"Behind my back."

Veronica bumped his shoulder with her own. "Yes, then. By the time we started dating, Duncan and I had been broken up for more than a year and a half. I guess Duncan wasn't over me, but I didn't know that. I mean, he dumped me and was dating someone else at the time." Veronica stopped playing with her cuticles and tried to gain strength in her voice by placing her hands firmly on her knees. "But when Logan and I broke up that summer, I waited less than a month before I started dating Duncan again. At the time I didn't have any regrets, but I think about it now and it feels wrong. Like I did a bad thing by dating Duncan so soon after Logan."

"Veronica, you were eighteen years old. I had thrown Logan out of the apartment. It makes sense you wanted to be with someone who made you feel stable." Veronica shook her head slowly and smirked at her dad's memory. "What, sweetie?"

"It's just that, whenever I did something in high school you disagreed with, I was old enough to have known better. But whenever I'm too hard on myself looking back, you tell me I was just a kid." Keith simply wrapped an arm around her in support.

"I'm not saying Logan is the innocent in all of this. We all know he made a few mistakes." At her dad's snort of laughter, Veronica slapped his arm gently. "Okay, more than a few. What I am saying is that I guess I get where he was coming from."

"Careful not to rewrite history, Veronica. Logan was pretty unsteady in high school."

"Dad, what if after you and Alicia had broken up the first time she had started dating your best friend one month after the two of you split? Would you have acted like everything was fine and played nice?" Veronica lightly shrugged off her dad's arm and began playing with her hands again.

"I don't really know where you're going with all of this, Veronica."

"Yeah, I don't know either." She stood up abruptly and started moving around her room, straightening the pencils in the pencil cup on her desk, removing the push pins in her bulletin board and organizing them in a straight line, and eventually stopping in the middle of her room, feet planted steadily despite continually wringing her hands. "I guess what I'm saying is, that it's my turn. Logan gets to call the shots this time around. He wants my friendship, nothing else, and I don't have the right to ask for anything different. I owe it to him."

"Is that what you screaming at him this afternoon was? Being okay with his decision?"

Veronica looked embarrassed and hung her head. "Growing pains. Logan managed to sort of be my friend while I waved my relationship with his best friend under his nose. He let me move on, and just because I'm not ready to now, doesn't mean I can prevent him from doing so. He deserves better than that."

"Veronica, I don't think you know as much about what Logan wants as you think you do."

Veronica placed her hands firmly on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "And by that you mean?"

Keith knew with just a few words he could easily untangle this knot, but it wasn't his place. "Just talk to him. Be honest. And maybe apologize."

Veronica sounded out the word slowly as if it was foreign to her. "Apologize? What is this 'apologizing' you speak of?" At her dad's chastising look, she conceded. "Yes, dad. I'm going to apologize, but not tonight."

"Well that's good, because I have both _Rear Window_ and _North by Northwest_."

"Hmmm, Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant? Always a tough decision."

"Let's go with _North by Northwest. _I don't think I can handle another night of your Jimmy Stewart impression."

"My Jimmy Stewart impression is flawless!"

Keith stood up and kissed her on the cheek. "It's about as good as your Clint Eastwood."

"What's wrong with my Clint Eastwood?"

"So many things, kiddo, so many things."

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

The first postcard Veronica sent Logan was of James Dean smoking a cigarette. Her junior year of college had just started, and somehow she and Logan had avoided seeing one another for their whole sophomore year. She had expected to run into him when she visited her dad for Christmas, but it was not so subtly dropped in conversation by Wallace that Logan and Dick had gone to Vail and wouldn't return until after the holidays.

The first time she actually saw Logan was in LA, March of her sophomore year, and Logan didn't know he had been seen. Veronica was sitting outside studying at Espresso Cielo, absentmindedly dunking a biscotti into her latte when a slow tingle started at the base of her neck. It was the feeling she got whenever someone was watching her or standing over her shoulder. She looked behind her. No one. She looked around her. No one. Veronica bit off a bite of her biscotti, annoyed that her sixth sense was malfunctioning. Then she remembered there was a third scenario that also prompted the same spine tingling sensation: Logan Echolls being within 100 feet of her.

Panicked, she looked around quickly and didn't see him anywhere outside. She turned around and looked into the coffee shop, and there he was, quietly holding the hand of a tall long haired brunette girl. Veronica saw him tuck a strand of hair behind the girl's ear like he had done with her so many times. Veronica immediately put her text book back in her messenger bag, grabbed her biscotti, and left the latte unfinished. She had no idea if Logan saw her retreating form as it ran past the large set of windows, but she knew that the first time she talked to Logan was not going to be while he was draped around his flavor of the month.

The following week, Mac and Wallace drove to LA to spend a few days of their spring break with Veronica. Their first night there, the three gathered on Veronica's couch to watch _Battlefield Earth_ and play their favorite drinking game: whenever a tilted camera angle was used, they took a shot. Thirty minutes into the movie, Veronica was happily buzzed, and uncharacteristically desirous of discussing Logan.

"But what were they doing in LA?"

Wallace shook his head, refusing to participate in anything even resembling girl talk. He clutched his shot gloss tightly, as if that would save him from the conversation. Mac sighed, knowing Veronica wouldn't let up until she got answers. "It was Sarah's birthday, and her favorite author was having a book signing at Vroman's. They were just in town for the day."

"Let me guess, her favorite author is Danielle Steel? No wait, Nicholas Sparks?"

"Actually, it's John Irving."

Veronica felt properly reprimanded. "Oh."

Veronica knew it was irrational, but even after all this time she still felt like he was her Logan, and that if he was going to lease himself out, she as his property manager must first be consulted.

"Yeah, oh. A Prayer for Owen Meany is Sarah's favorite book."

"It's a…It's a good book." Veronica's eyes flicked to the movie and saw another drink warranting scene. "Shot!" Mac, Wallace, and Veronica all poured a shot of tequila, with Mac doing her best to hide that she was only filling her glass halfway.

"Veronica," Mac somehow simultaneously slurred and shouted. "You're one of my best friends, but Logan is quickly becoming one too. And he couldn't wait for you anymore."

"What do you mean wait for me?" Veronica slammed her shot glass down on the table, causing the shot Wallace had poured himself to slosh and spill out on her coffee table. That was enough to gain Wallace's attention, and he jumped into the conversation which he had been doing his darndest to ignore.

"You told him he was out of your life, for good."

"I didn't say 'for good.'" Veronica took a shot for the hell of it. She didn't like being wrong about Sarah or being double teamed by two of her friends.

Mac, not realizing Veronica's shot had been voluntary, took another herself. "Well, then what did you say?"

Veronica abruptly stood up and walked briskly in the direction of the kitchen. Mac and Wallace turned around to watch her, uncertain if she was running from the conversation or going to the bathroom to vomit. They watched as she took a glass out of her cupboard, filled it with ice water from her fridge, and chugged it all without taking more than a breath. She placed the glass on the counter, and then steadied herself by resting her hands on the counter. "I said he was out of my life 'forever.'" Mac and Wallace scoffed at the lack of distinction. "What? There's a difference!"

"How is 'forever' any better than 'for good?'"

"Don't yell at me, Wallace. We're only 45 minutes into the movie and my head already hurts."

"Mac and I aren't trying to gang up on you, but you asked and we're answering."

"Wallace is right, Veronica. The thing about telling a guy who has been systemically abandoned by everyone in his life that you don't want to have anything to do with him is that he believes you, easily. Any other guy might have understood you were pissed and felt violated by the video and just taking it out on him, but Logan…"

Veronica didn't need Mac to explain, because she knew. It was the same reason he could go from close friend to chief torturer while they were in high school. Lily left him by dying, Duncan left him by retreating into a medicated cocoon, and so it clearly followed that Veronica was only moments away from leaving him. When Keith went after the Kanes for Lily's murder, Logan had gotten all the confirmation he needed. Being 15 and heartbroken and an idiot, he couldn't see it any other way.

"I know, Mac. Logan always expects it. He doesn't know when or why, but he thinks everyone will walk out." Veronica took another cup out of the cupboard, filled the new glass and the one she had just used with water and walked back into the living room, joining her friends on the couch. She handed each a glass of water. Mac simply held hers, not finished with the conversation, but Wallace chugged his gratefully.

"He's not going to call you, Veronica. If you want him back in your life in any capacity, it's going to have to be you making that first step. But, I don't think you should, for a while at least."

"Why not?" Veronica felt like a child being told not to touch the stovetop. She hadn't realized she wanted to call Logan, but having Mac tell her not to made it clear that that was exactly what she wanted.

Mac looked to Wallace for help, but he was refusing to make eye contact with either her or Veronica. Mac sighed, and continued to plug along as Logan's spokesperson. "Because he's happy with Sarah. I don't think it'll go the distance, but it makes him happy now, and I like seeing him happy."

"You think I'm going to screw it up?"

"I think you're a song he has had stuck in his head since he was 16."

Veronica laid down, placing her head in Mac's lap. "When did you get so smart? I hate it."

"Hearst is a really good school, Veronica."

"Sorry to make you two do this. You know, be in the middle of it all."

Wallace looked down at Veronica, amused to see her eyes more glazed than he had ever seen, but sympathetic to her obviously conflicting emotions. "You didn't make us do anything, V."

Mac played with Veronica's hair awkwardly. "Are you going to hold this against us? Make us both sleep on the hardwood floors instead of the pull out?"

"Yeah, and you guys only get a single fitted sheet to cover up with."

Wallace nodded his head. "Of course."

"Seems fair," Mac agreed.

Veronica groaned and pitched her body forward to stand up. "Alright, I can't take any more shots. Mac, you can share my bed with me, and Wallace can take the couch." Mac didn't need to be told twice and stood up, immediately heading into Veronica's room.

"You two are giving up! We still have an hour of the movie to go."

"Yeah, but this is further in than we've ever gotten before." Veronica patted Wallace on the head. "Remember where the spare blankets and pillows are?" Wallace nodded, and Veronica turned off all the lights in the living room and kitchen, except for a small lamp on a side table that Wallace could use to safely navigate from the bathroom to the living room. "Good night, Wally F."

"Good night, V. See you in the morning. I expect good hangover food."

"What kind of a hostess would I be if I didn't provide such things?"

Six weeks after they had visited, Veronica learned from Mac that Logan and Sarah had broken up. She did a quick mental calculation and figured out that Logan and Sarah had dated for five months. That was almost as long as she and Logan had made it before he had broken up with her freshman year. Maybe now Sarah was the one who got away.

That summer Veronica was killing some time online while she worked reception at the student health clinic. She visited the Neptune Gazette website, browsing both funny and disturbing articles about the town she grew up in. The front page article was about the opening and dedication of the new Lyle Sternn Community Center. The previous community center had never fully recovered from the pool and gasoline incident with the 09ers from a couple of summers prior and had fallen into a state of disrepair. A more than generous donor had contributed six million dollars to the project and the entire community center had been gutted and rebuilt. The donor only had two demands: 1) they wanted to remain anonymous, and 2) they wanted to name the facility.

Veronica stopped reading the article. Something wasn't adding up. Who the hell was Lyle Sternn? There was no one in Neptune by that name and Veronica assumed that if someone was going to sink that amount of money into a charitable project that they'd name the building after themselves. She did a quick search and found a very wealthy Lyle Sternn who lived in Little Rock, Arkansas. Veronica called and was quickly disappointed when he told her he had never heard of Neptune, California and didn't know anything about a community center.

A few weeks later classes had started and Veronica still hadn't figured out who Lyle Sternn was or how he was connected to Neptune. She had called her dad, Mac, and Wallace, and no one knew more than she did. One afternoon she was sitting in class waiting for the professor to arrive and she found herself doodling 'Lyle Sternn' over and over in the margin of her notebook. She made all the letters lowercase and smooshed them together, 'lylesternn', and then lazily mixed them up, 'Lyster Lenn.' At the newest permutation Veronica's throat developed a sizeable lump, and she rearranged the letters one more time, 'Lynn Lester.'

"Logan," she said quietly as she looked at the name. She heard her professor clear his throat and begin to lecture.

The next 90 minutes were torture, as she fought to make sense of this new information while taking notes on organic chemistry. As soon as class was dismissed she tore out of the room, and pulled her cell phone out, ready and prepared to call Logan and tell him…tell him what exactly? She had no idea what she wanted to tell him. And if she figured it out, did she have a right to say anything? Mac was right: she needed to make the first move, but what was the first move in a situation like this? Flowers? Chocolates?

Studying that night at a used bookstore near campus, she took a break to visit the café inside and her eye caught their postcard display. Staring back at her was James Dean in a scene from _Rebel Without a Cause_ looking unimpressed and smoking. Veronica knew it wasn't the same as catching him before he got on the plane to leave the country, or Lloyd Dobbler standing outside a window with a boom box, but it was something.

_Didn't you hear? Bad boys smoke cigarettes, they DO NOT make anonymous philanthropic donations to build a new community center. I'm proud of you. – Veronica_

Veronica wasn't expecting a response, but a week later she opened her mailbox to find a picture of Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes staring back at her. She smiled and didn't quite understand why her heart beat a little faster as she turned it over to find Logan's scrawl.

_Way to figure it out, Sherlock. Word on the street is you're trading in your magnifying glass for scrubs. I'll always be proud of you. – Logan_

That year she continued to send Logan postcards of brooding bad boys: Judd Nelson from _The Breakfast Club, _Brad Pitt in _Fight Club_, Christian Slater in _Heathers, _Marlon Brando in _A Streetcar Named Desire_, Paul Newman in _Cool Hand Luke_. When the bookstore ran out of postcards to fit her theme, she found photos online and glued them to 4x6 notecards, making her own. By the end of the year she had sent him close to twenty postcards. Her notes were simple and provided snippets about her life. She was conscious not to pull any punches or try to hide anything; in large part because she didn't want him to feel like he had to either.

_I'd pay Christian Slater good money to come and blow up my school. That wasn't a bomb threat. Don't turn me in. – Veronica  
__School is kicking my ass. Accidentally got drunk. Jared was less than amused. - Veronica  
__Went on a date. Is it bad when the smell of his breath is stronger than his cologne? – Veronica_

In return Veronica received several more Sherlock Holmes postcards featuring Jeremy Brett, Julia McKenzie as Miss Marple, a series of Nancy Drew book cover cards, Columbo, Jessica Fletcher from _Murder She Wrote_, Raymond Burr as _Perry Mason,_ and to her great amusement Jim Carey as Ace Ventura Pet Detective. Logan matched Veronica line by line, never sharing more than she did, but matching her in vulnerability.

_Applying for an internship at Gant Publishing. Interview next week. – Logan  
__Trina is in town and coming over for dinner to meet Jenna. This is going to go badly. – Logan  
__I hate my 'Literature by Women' professor. I'd try and sleep with her to get a better grade, but she's 62. – Logan_

Both of them were committed to full time internships the summer of junior year and therefore knew it was unlikely they would see each other for another long while. She knew that if she had asked, Logan would have come with Mac and Wallace for their junior year spring break, but she wasn't ready to see him again. Light, nonromantic, open and honest banter was what they needed. If they could focus on that, they might just be able to pull off the whole friends thing.

Fall of their senior year Veronica took a calculated risk and started sending Logan ironic postcards of Los Angeles landmarks she had found in a quirky consignment store she wandered through. She had gone to find a replacement for her light blue denim jacket. Every time she wore that jacket she was reminded of showing up at the Grand, and Logan opening the door, and Logan peeling the jacket off her shoulder. With their resurgence of contact in the past year, ignoring those reminders of yesteryear was becoming increasingly more difficult and the jacket wasn't helping.

The first LA postcard she sent had a photo of a rather polluted section of the Los Angeles River with a bold banner across the top: "The 12,543 Wonder of the World!" Veronica thought about countless ways to rephrase her note. She was switching the rules of the game and she didn't know what he would say when he saw that. On the back, her hand shaking slightly, she wrote:

_When you come visit me in LA, we should have a picnic along the river. Clearly it's enchanted. – Veronica _

Veronica wasn't disappointed when a week later she received a Luigi's postcard in her mailbox.

_Luigi's changed the recipe of their Tiramisu. Don't worry, it's good. When you come visit me, I'll buy you a wheelbarrow full. – Logan_

They continued to trade postcards, neither demanding more than what the other was willing to give when that March Veronica changed the rules of the game once again. She took a picture of herself wearing a chauffeur's cap and holding a sign that said "Logan".

_Visit me for spring break. – Veronica_

Logan must have sent his response immediately because she received it in the mail three days later. It was a picture of his suitcase already packed.

_I know you already have the hat, but I think I'll drive. See you on the 19__th__. I got your address from Mac. – Logan_

Mac and Wallace opted to go on a trip to Mexico with a group of friends that spring break, so for six days it was just her and Logan. After he went back to Neptune, she spent a few days deciding on the next set of postcards she wanted to send and finally found a book of postcards she thought would work perfectly. They were all solid black with various inspirational quotes in bold faced white century gothic font. She pulled out all the ones about love and romance and sent him one a week.

_And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. ― Charles Dickens  
__Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. – Aristotle _

In return, Logan managed to convince a few of the authors he had met through his internship to hand write a sentence or two of their own, expressing their thoughts on love, and desire, and passion. One postcard came that didn't list an author, and Veronica was left wondering if he had left it out on purpose, or if the author simply failed to sign the postcard.

After a month, Veronica admitted to herself that the postcards, while beautiful, weren't saying everything she wanted to. So she penned a rather long letter and sent it the following day, uncertain why putting a stamp on an envelope and placing it in her mailbox seemed like the most dangerous thing she had ever done.

She sent her last postcard to him on her final day in LA before she left for the airport.

_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. ― Pablo Neruda_

She had just gotten back from two weeks in Neptune to say another round of goodbyes, and now with Wallace in tow, she was moving to Chicago for med school. She wondered if he had even noticed when her postcards stopped coming regularly. Because his had stopped coming at all four months prior, and it was all she could think about.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Veronica had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, but once she picked herself up and went to bed she had a difficult time falling back asleep. Her erratic behavior that day was foremost in her mind and her cheeks wouldn't stop burning in embarrassment. She'd begin to fall asleep and then her mind would flash to a particularly cutting remark she had made, or Logan's look of disappointment, and she'd be wide awake again. When she and Logan had dated, accusations of nefarious deeds were her thing; temper tantrums were not. And flinging herself backwards on the sand was definitely a tantrum.

It was past 11:30 PM, but she picked up her cell to call Wallace anyway. He picked up the phone after one ring with a slightly groggy, "Hello?" in greeting.

"How did you know that I was going to wake up and realize I was acting like a crazy person?"

She heard Wallace sit up in bed and flick on his bedside lamp. "So it didn't take all the way until morning I see."

"Nope, I was pretty much aware of my crazy as it was happening. But much like a Tara Reid movie, it was out of my control to stop." Veronica paused for a moment and grimaced loudly. "I hate being a girl." She heard Wallace laugh quietly, and she wasn't sure if it was with her or at her.

"V, you realize who you're acting like, right?"

"That astronaut lady who drove from Houston to Orlando wearing diapers to kidnap the other woman?"

"No. You're acting like Logan senior year of high school."

Veronica shook her head vigorously and turned on her own bedside lamp and sat up. "I don't think so. Do you remember Logan senior year?"

"Yes, do you?"

"I remember him hating my guts, again. Banging Kendall Casablancas. Using Hannah Griffith."

"You mean you remember Logan being upset you broke up with him, and then lashing out repeatedly? I feel like this is a song I've heard before." Wallace trailed off, and Veronica could see his faux innocent expression as if he was sitting in her room.

"It's not the same thing."

"No, you're right Veronica, it's not. Because he was 17 years old and in high school and you're 24 years old and should know better. Tell the guy how you feel, or don't. Either way, grow up."

Veronica laughed slightly. "Only you could say something so harsh and yet sound so nice about it. Seriously, if you had a British accent, you could call me every name in the book and I'd probably thank you for it."

"He's the only one you do this with, you know?"

"Do what?"

"Refuse to let move on past high school. You've never thrown mine, Mac's, your dad's, hell, even Dick's mistakes in our faces the way you throw Logan's in front of his." Veronica remained silent for close to a minute, and Wallace was afraid he had pushed it too far. "Veronica?"

"I'm here." She cleared her throat. "You're wrong, though. I don't throw Logan's mistakes in his face. I just don't let him move on from them."

"Which is better, how?"

Veronica threw her head back onto the pillow and turned off the bedside lamp. "How was shopping with Darrell?"

She heard Wallace lay back down and turn off his own lamp. "Pretty good. We got a good deal on mom's present. Her Kitchen Aid crapped out on her a few months ago and we split the cost of buying her a new one."

"Which means you paid for it."

"He covered the sales tax, which was nice." Wallace shifted in his bed so he was lying on his side. "Talk to him, V. There's nothing that man wouldn't forgive you. A few snarky comments and a tannenbaum tantrum don't even rank in the worst offenses you've ever committed."

"I want better for him. I want better for us as friends."

"Then you'll get it. But don't be someone different. Just try and channel some of your more tenacious qualities in positive ways."

"I thought engineers were supposed to be socially awkward? Unable to hold down a real conversation?"

"That'd make things easier on you, wouldn't it?"

After she hung up with Wallace, she dozed off and on throughout the night. She figured it was only fair given that the previous night she had slept more than twelve hours at one time.

* * *

Veronica had never been more nervous about purchasing a cup of coffee. She vaguely remembered taking a quiz in a magazine once that attempted to analyze her personality based on her caffeinated beverage of choice. It seemed like a ridiculous assertion at the time, but standing in line in this particular coffee shop at 7:30 AM, she wished she would have given the quiz more credence. Was there a cup of coffee that communicated contrition? She settled on an Iced Americano with cream, hoping that Logan wouldn't make any cheap shots about her obvious penchant for iced beverages as an extension of her ice queen persona.

Logan had mentioned on one of his postcards he sent senior year that the drip coffee at the café six blocks away from Gant Publishing was the best he had ever had. She hoped that he still maintained that belief, and that it was still a part of his morning routine. Veronica didn't know if he was an 'in by 8:00 AM' or an 'in by 9:00 AM' kind of guy, so figured that 7:30 AM was a safe bet. If he was an 'in by 7:00 AM' guy, she was screwed and wasn't sure she'd want to be friends with someone who intentionally woke up that early.

Veronica was standing off to the side, waiting for her Americano when the all too familiar spine tingling sensation began at the base of her spine and slowly made its way up to her neck. She turned around and saw Logan staring at her. He kept his expression guarded, and she figured it was most likely because he wasn't certain which Veronica he'd encounter that day. She turned back around, grabbed her Americano from the coffee bar, poured in some half and half and then joined him in line.

"Veronica."

"Logan."

He looked down at her and smiled and then looked back up again. She could see he was trying to maintain a sense of calm, but his left hand was in his pocket, and she could hear the change jingling as he repeatedly fisted the coins in his pocket and then let them go. She had never seen Logan dressed for work before, and she liked the sight. He was wearing charcoal trousers, a royal blue button down collared shirt that looked tailor made, and a black tie which was a little skinnier than the ties her dad wore, but not skinny enough to make him look like a member of The Decemberists. He caught her perusal and smiled again.

"Checking out my ass, Mars?"

She shrugged her shoulders as response and gave him a half smirk. "It's a good ass." He looked at her sharply, surprised at her admission. "What time you have to be at work?"

"8:00 AM. I like to get here a little early to ready myself for battle. Apparently, the battle decided to find me today."

"Want to forego that and come sit with me?" Logan looked a little wary, and before he could say anything she interrupted. "Because I have a crazy story to tell you."

"Really? Lay it on me." They had to pause briefly for Logan to order his coffee. He tipped as much as his coffee cost, all the baristas knew him, and it was clear that those without wedding rings wanted him for their own. There were plenty of open tables as the majority of the morning crowd was of the 'get in, get out' variety.

"Back to my crazy story. I saw you on Saturday, right?"

"Yes. You did."

"Well, after that everything is a blur. Turns out Sunday morning I had been possessed by this rage demon. I'm told she caused me to yell at you, my dad, and even throw a little bit of a fit on a public beach."

Logan laughed in spite of himself and snapped his fingers. "You know, I thought she looked familiar."

"You've encountered this demon before?"

"Only once a day, almost every day, for a good couple years. I thought she had gone into hiding though. Turns out, I was wrong." Logan took a sip of his coffee and eyed her warily, not certain if his response would piss her off, or if she'd still keep their conversation light.

"It was pretty serious apparently. Dad called a priest. He almost called the pope. They had an exorcism and everything."

"What did that consist of?"

"You know the scene in _Addams Family Values_ when Wednesday was locked in the Harmony Hut and forced to watch _The Sound of Music _on repeat? It was a lot like that."

"And now?"

"Well it worked, thankfully, and the priest says I'm good as new. He even tried to give me a chastity belt as a parting gift, but I told him he could keep it."

Logan took another sip of his coffee. Was this as close to a Veronica Mars apology as he was going to get? It seemed like her MO these days to gloss over difficult subjects, but he had been on the receiving end of a few teary eyed admissions, and this wasn't one of them. When he saw in his peripheral vision her hand move to take his, he looked up and saw the familiar soft expression with the slightly glassy eyes looking backing at him.

"Logan, I said some things to you that were pretty terrible. And I'm sorry. I can't promise it'll never happen again, unfortunately, but I can tell you that I'm doing my best."

And with that, he was hooked again. He smiled at her to let her know that all was forgiven and gave her hand a tiny squeeze to let her know he was really there with her.

"Do you want to talk about what got you so upset yesterday?"

"No, Logan, I don't." Veronica could feel him trying to pull his hand away and she gripped a little more tightly. "But that has nothing to do with you! You did nothing wrong yesterday, honestly. I was just dealing with some baggage and I took it out on you. It was unfair, and I'm sorry."

"You can tell me about it, you know. Unless I am your baggage. And in that case, I say pretend it doesn't exist and let's make out instead." Logan waggled his eyebrows at her, and Veronica felt an honest to goodness laugh bubble up from her gut and spill out.

Logan had long stopped trying to pull his hand away and Veronica became aware that the two of them were sitting facing one another in a coffee shop, holding hands. She drew her hand back to take a sip of her coffee and then sat with both hands folded in her lap.

Logan cleared his throat and she looked up at him. "You know, this isn't the first time you've ever apologized to me. But it's one of the first times you've sought me out to say you're sorry and I didn't do anything to screw it up."

"Look at us, growing up. I figured I'd try something I always avoided because I assumed I wouldn't be any good at it."

"As someone who has had plenty of practice apologizing and making amends, you did great. Just don't go and do anything stupid to muck it up. Like lying about an alibi." Veronica frowned at Logan, but they both knew it was mainly for show. "That stuff is frowned upon, ya know." Logan looked down at his watch and Veronica noticed his brow furrow slightly.

"Time for you to go?"

"Unfortunately. I parked my car at the office and walked over."

"I'll walk with you. I don't have anywhere to be just yet."

Logan stood up and offered Veronica her arm. "Well then, Miss Mars, shall we?"

She playfully shoved him aside. "You're such a drama queen."

Logan put his left foot out straight in front of him, bent his right knee, and gave her a courtly bow as she walked by. He grabbed his messenger bag from his chair and waved to the baristas who all said farewell but who were more focused on checking out the girl he had been having coffee with.

As they walked to Logan's office, Veronica was struck by how much lighter she felt simply clearing the air. It had been a while since they had been just friends, without any of the preamble or dramatics, and she thought that if being friends with Logan Echolls meant drinking good coffee, and walking down the street on a slightly crisp December California morning, she would be content to be his friend for the rest of her life.

"So, Logan. Whose balls are we busting this morning?"

"As many people's as possible, Veronica. But, specifically, I have my eye on Kip Johnson."

"Kip Johnson, the author of _The Silk in the Willow_? He hasn't published anything in more than five years, right?"

"Seven years, and he's halfway through his next novel, and Veronica. It's amazing, let me tell you. I've never read prose like this before. It leaps off the page and grabs you by the throat. The main character is an 18 year old girl living in Dubai, but somehow he makes me feel like I'm reading my own story."

Logan was looking off into the distance as he spoke, one hand clutching his coffee, and the other gesturing wildly. Veronica had a strong urge to knock the coffee cup out of his hand and pull him down for a kiss under the guise of trying to determine how many sugars he put in his coffee now. Naturally, for research purposes, she'd have to use her tongue to determine this. Instead, she began idly playing with an end of her hair.

"Seven years and only half finished? What's taking him so long?"

"Name it, and it's happened to him. In and out of rehab for alcohol three times, several women suing him for child support for children who he claims aren't his. What's really put him out of commission was the death of his twin sister. He says his grief has choked his writing."

"How long have you been working with him?"

"For about a year. I told him if he stopped drinking, I'd stop drinking. I even went to AA meetings with him every day for six months. That worked for a while, and he penned another 80 pages, but that was before his sister died. He stopped going to meetings, and now drinks himself into oblivion most nights. I think he would have burned his book if I hadn't removed the draft from his house." At Veronica's look Logan continued. "He's old school. Types his first draft on an antique typewriter he bought at a pawn shop."

"What are you going to do?"

"First I have to convince Gant Publishing not to terminate his contract. I know he has it in him to finish this, I just don't know how to get through to him. Usually I'm able to alternate between coddling and tough love, but he's resisting all of my charms."

"Maybe I could talk to him? I mean, if anyone knows about resisting Logan Echoll's charms it's this girl."

He bumped her shoulder affectionately as they walked. "Yeah, and how long did that ever last?"

Veronica remembered how proud Logan was of the internship he had done with Gant Publishing the summer after his junior year. Casey had offered him a position without the interview, but Logan insisted on being put through the ranks like everyone else. It was clear from those who interviewed him that his sharp intellect, his low tolerance for BS, and his inability to tolerate crap writing would make him an excellent editor once he graduated. He worked at Gant Publishing again the summer after senior year, but after his run in with Benny Scott, the company's best hope at being nominated for a Pulitzer that year, they offered him a job.

Benny Scott had been waiting for his agent in the lobby of Gant Publishing for close to 20 minutes when Logan walked by with a stack of submissions literary agencies had sent to be perused. His job was to sort and then distribute them to the reader or editor he thought would be most interested in the project. He was impeded in his process by Benny who grabbed his arm and pulled him down close to his face demanding to see the sonofabitch who was going to hack his life work to pieces. Logan had recoiled at the smell of whiskey on Benny's breath at 10:00 AM and asked Marla, the receptionist, to bring over some coffee.

90 minutes later, Logan was the sonofabitch reading and hacking at Benny's manuscript, while offering Benny bonus criticism about what an egotistical prick and sad sack he clearly was. At the end of their time together, Benny had a renewed enthusiasm for his work and refused to speak to anyone at Gant besides Logan himself. Gant Publishing had no choice but to hire Logan. They created a new position for him, Senior Editorial Consultant, that was a mix of literary agent and editor. He was assigned all the toughest cases as his clients. They were usually brilliant authors whose lives, for one reason or the other, had stalled. Logan never imagined his penchant for drowning his sorrows in liquor would one day be a marketable skill.

Walking with Veronica now, Logan could see that she had a thought, but didn't want to offer it without permission. "What is it, Veronica?"

"Well, it might be nothing, but when we broke up the last time in college, you seemed to be in pretty bad shape."

Logan swallowed and his jaw tensed slightly. "I was."

"And then a couple weeks later I saw you, and you were happy and laughing."

"I was laughing. Don't know if I was actually happy."

"Well, what pulled you out of that?"

Logan laughed at the memory, and he absentmindedly rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck. "That would have been Heather."

"Dick's ex sister-in-law?"

"That's the one. It was nice to focus on taking care of someone else instead of just wallowing. We played video games, ate ice cream, it was a good diversion. And then presto, I started showering again. Dick was eternally grateful for her interference."

"Does Kip have a Heather? Is there a niece, or a cousin, or a street urchin who needs a good home?"

Logan thought for a moment and then his face lit up with an idea. "No, but there is a puppy."

"A puppy?"

"The two of us walked by a pet store a couple of months ago and there was a Shi Tzu puppy in the window that he about drooled all over. I hadn't seen him that excited in a while."

"You sure that giving a man who is bathing in scotch right now a puppy is such a great idea?"

"Hey, you wanted to give him a kid!"

"True." By that time the two of them had long reached the front doors to Logan's office. He looked down at his watch again and Veronica knew it was time for her to head out. "I was serious about today being father/daughter day, but can I take you up on dinner tomorrow?"

Logan's face paled and he rubbed one hand down it, cupping his own chin. "I kind of made plans." Veronica took a couple steps back nodding her head and Logan had to physically stop himself from grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers to get her to stay. "It's Heather. She has finals next week and her and her friends need a break, so she convinced me to let them use the pool for a pool party."

"In other words, her friends convinced her to ask you because they want to come over and ogle you."

"Can you blame them, Veronica? I mean, look at me." Veronica bit her lip to stop herself from responding, but Logan had a feeling in that moment he would have very much liked to have heard what she had to say. "You should come over. Heather likes you a lot."

Veronica only hesitated for a second. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

"Does 6:00 PM work for you? I think she wants to BBQ too."

"6:00 PM sounds great."

And the next moment, before either could remember that this was Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls, one time lovers who were now tentative friends who had really only come back into one another's lives two days prior, Veronica stepped up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. The moment her lips touched his cheek she was snapped out of whatever alternate reality she had been living in where the two of them were dating, and she had just walked him to his office, and he was telling her what he was making for dinner. She scrunched up her eyes as she planted her feet firmly on the ground, imagining how Logan would look when she opened them. She kept her eyes closed, her face flushing in humiliation. "I'm sorry, just got caught up in the moment."

Her eyes opened, and sure enough, there he was. An expression of total shock on his face. But with shock, she thought she saw something that made it seem as if he had expected something like that to happen all along.

She put her right hand out for a handshake, he took it, and she shook his hand firmly. "Thank you for the walk and the conversation. Again, I apologize for my behavior yesterday. I'll see you tomorrow. Good day to you Mr. Echolls."

He shook her hand back. "And good day to you, Miss Mars." They dropped hands and Veronica turned quickly on her heels to walk away, wondering if Logan was watching her as she did, and feeling strangely satisfied when she looked over her shoulder and saw that he was.

As quickly as she had walked away from him, she found herself turning around and walking back towards him. She stepped about three inches into his personal space and could see the uncertainty in his face.

"Miss Mars."

"Logan, when we broke up I was in pretty bad shape too. I just…I just thought you should know."

The hopefulness in his tone as he asked, "Really?" was almost more than she could take.

"I was just better at hiding it than you." And then she was gone again, walking the six blocks to her car before she did something crazy like admit to him that some days she was still in pretty bad shape.

For the second time in his life, Veronica had kissed him and left him standing by himself wondering what the hell had just happened. He didn't understand why a kiss on the cheek from Veronica was powerful enough to leave him incapable of speech, and yet there he stood. He suspected that if he ever kissed her on the lips again, his entire brain may explode, and he'd have no hope of recovery. From what he heard, brain explosions were almost always fatal.

* * *

**A/N 3: **I am not above begging. So this is me, begging for your feedback. What did you like? What did you love? What do you want to see in future chapters?

**A/N 4: **Thanks for all of those who read and reviewed my first ever oneshot as well. You are all such kind people, and it got way more positive feedback than I could have imagined.


	7. Chapter 7: She Fights (For You)

**A/N 1: **As always, thank you so very much for your feedback and support in writing all of this. We're getting into Veronica's mystery (FINALLY!), and I haven't written a mystery in forever, so it may be slightly slow going.

**A/N 2: **Over 9,000 words. So get comfy.

* * *

**Chapter 7: She Fights (For You)**

Having successfully reconciled with Logan, Veronica made her way back to the coffee shop to grab a muffin for breakfast, dodging the inquisitive looks of the baristas who had seen them leave together no more than 20 minutes prior.

While initially pleased with how well her conversation with Logan had gone, the further she got from the coffee shop the less certain she became. Agreeing to attend a pool party with Heather and a few of Heather's closest friends was not a part of the plan. Kissing Logan, even if it was just on the cheek, was not a part of the plan. Admitting to Logan she had been heartbroken in college after the whole Madison debacle was not a part of the plan. And yet, all those things had happened.

Veronica firmly believed that knowledge was power, and she had just given Logan a disturbing amount of both. She trusted he would never abuse it, but it still unsettled her knowing that she had willing given it to him. She could almost hear Wallace's calming voice talking her off the ledge: _Calm down, Supafly, and step back from whatever weird mental place you just visited._

During their time in college, and now as roommates, Wallace had become more than just a best-friend: he had become the wire that grounded her. And she did the same thing for him. After graduating from Hearst, he had doubted he was smart enough to get into the engineering program at Northwestern. Veronica made charts and graphs that showed the average test scores and GPAs of those students enrolled and plotted Wallace's against theirs to prove to him he needed to go for it.

When a cute guy at a party would hit on Veronica and she'd create an entire backstory for him before even knowing his middle name, Wallace would encourage her to get to know the guy the old fashioned way before running a background check.

Veronica gave Wallace confidence when his wavered, and Wallace gave Veronica perspective when hers got blurry.

Driving to the post office, she knew she desperately needed Wallace-vision, so she channeled some of the best advice he had given her. In doing so, she arrived and parked at the post office certain that she had done the right thing in her time with Logan and that her honesty would only lead to positive things in their relationship. While she would never be an optimist, she was working hard to curb her bent towards cynicism.

That morning, Veronica had looked up the USPS requirements for opening a PO Box. Their website specified that two forms of ID were required. One had to be a photo ID; most commonly a driver's license, university ID or passport, and the other could be a non-photo ID that stated the applicant's current address. Veronica had never provided these items to a postal worker, but that hadn't stopped someone from opening PO Boxes in her name in Neptune, Los Angeles, and Chicago.

Being a Tuesday morning at 9:03 AM, the line at the post office was non-existent. She had left a note for her dad letting him know she'd be back by 10:00 AM, and was grateful that it looked like she'd be able to keep her word. Standing at the one open window, she hit the small silver bell several times before a slightly rotund woman with an unflattering bleach blonde angled bob wearing an ill-fitting USPS polo shirt came from the back room to assist her. The woman looked annoyed by the disruption of a customer, and Veronica wondered how in the world she would fare as it got closer to Christmas when the lines to the post office wound around the block.

"Can I help you?"

Veronica swung her messenger bag around and pulled out her wallet. "My name is Veronica Mars, and PO Box 1004 has been rented under my name for the past several years." Veronica pulled out her ID and showed it to the woman. "I was wondering if you could confirm for me the ID required to open a PO Box."

"The federal government requires two forms of ID, one must be photo ID, and the other must contain your current address. Social security cards, birth certificates, and credit cards are not valid forms." The woman had already stopped paying direct attention to Veronica and was now taping tabs that declared in all caps, 'property of the US Government,' on the end of her blue ball point pins.

Veronica put her ID and wallet back in her bag. "Here's the thing. I have never opened a PO Box here, and yet, for the past seven years mail has been sent to this PO Box in my name. Is there any way someone could open one without my permission?"

"It is permissible for a spouse to open one in their name and list you as an approved user of the box, but they would still be the primary box holder."

Veronica held up her left hand to show the lack of ring. When the woman took out a container of Clorox wipes to begin wiping down her work station, Veronica snapped the fingers of her right hand to get her attention. The woman looked at her, clearly affronted by the gesture. Veronica pointed to her naked ring finger. "You see this? What does this tell you?"

"If you would like to have your name removed from a PO Box due to divorce, the primary box holder will need to provide a certificate of divorce."

"There's been no divorce, because I've never been married. Do you make photocopies of the ID provided to open a PO Box?"

"Federal regulations require that both forms of ID be photocopied and filed whenever an application for a PO Box is submitted."

Veronica placed her hands on the counter and then quickly brought them back, wiping them on her pants when she felt the counter still damp from disinfectant. "Could you please show me copies of the ID provided to open my PO Box? And receipts showing who paid for the rental?"

With a long suffering sigh, the woman left her workstation and headed to the back room from which she had originally come. By that time three additional customers had arrived and Veronica knew it was unlikely any of them would be attended to in a timely manner.

Veronica drummed her fingers impatiently as she waited for her new Neptune friend to return from the back. When she finally did, a full seven minutes later, Veronica had just won a game of "Words with Friends" against Mac with a high score of 509.

The woman slid the three pieces of photo copied paper across the counter to Veronica, and then dismissed her with a wave of her hand. Veronica stepped to the side to allow the next customer, who had been waiting ten minutes to buy one stamp, to step forward. She looked at the first piece of paper and saw the dates and amounts listed for payment for the box. Beginning on May 10, 2005, a cash payment had been received annually to rent the box for a full year.

Veronica saw that she was listed as the sole name on the PO box, which meant that despite the assertions of the woman standing in front of her, someone had found a way to get around federal regulations three times and opened boxes in her name alone. Computer hacking? Bribery? Hiring a lookalike? There were ways to get around almost any policy if one tried hard enough.

The second piece of paper displayed a photocopy of the front and back of the driver's license she was issued when she was 16-years old. The third piece of paper showed her passport, and like her driver's license, it was also from when she was a teenager.

Veronica slid back in front of the woman at the window, cutting in front of a man who was waiting to pick up a certified letter. "I'm sorry, but this is my driver's license and passport."

"Circle gets the square." The woman turned away from Veronica to take the slip of paper from the man to collect his letter.

"But I never opened a PO Box here." The woman grabbed the pieces of paper from Veronica and then looked from the photos to Veronica.

"Is this you?"

Veronica rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Do you have the PO Box key?"

Veronica nodded again.

"Then congratulations! You have a PO Box. Would you like to close the account?"

Veronica shook her head no. "But that's not the issue; it's that…"

"Look, lady, clearly if being sent mail was such an issue, you would have closed the box account seven years ago. If that is not what you intend to do, please step aside so I can assist the other customers."

Veronica glared at the woman and took the photocopies back from her. She wasn't done asking questions, but she knew the woman wasn't going to spend much more time with her, and Veronica was loathe to make a scene until she knew exactly what she was digging for. Perhaps the staff in LA and Chicago would be of greater assistance. Or she could just come back to this branch when someone was working who didn't have food stains on their shirt.

Veronica was about to leave the lobby of the post office, when she stopped suddenly to stare at the outside of box 1004. She hadn't received mail in that PO Box since she had moved to LA, and based on the pattern of previous items received, there wouldn't be anything inside. But her instincts were telling her to check it now. She pulled out the PO Box key and inserted it into the box, jiggling the lock slightly to open it, like she had learned she had to do.

Veronica gasped slightly at the sight of the single piece of mail waiting for her. An 8.5" x 11" manila envelope, identical to all the others. Veronica reached into her messenger bag and searched for her Ziploc of rubber gloves. None of the other envelopes had uncovered any useful fingerprints, and she suspected it would be the same with this one, but she wanted to be careful. She carefully lifted the envelope out of the PO Box, and then closed it, dropping the key into the bottom of her bag.

Veronica breathed a deep sigh of relief when she looked at the postmark. It had been sent December 7 from Chicago.

_He hasn't followed me here. I'm fine. Everything's fine._

She repeated those words to herself as she slid her finger under the sealed flap of the envelope, and carefully tore it open. She was pretty certain what she would find, but as she removed the 5x7 pencil sketch of her, with her hair pulled back into a long ponytail, parted at the side, one loose hair tucked behind her left ear, she felt her knees wobble slightly. She turned the item over and then slid down to the ground, her knees no longer able to support her weight. In the same carefully penned all caps writing she had gotten so used to seeing, she read:

_Welcome home, Veronica. I love you._

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "He hasn't followed me here. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"Excuse me?"

Veronica opened her eyes and saw the woman from the post office glowering at her.

"You can't sit here. Does this look like a park to you?"

"Well, it could be. I mean, the cheese sauce drizzled down the front of your shirt would suggest this is a Denny's, despite the fact I am woefully without a short stack." The woman looked like she was going to swear, but Veronica didn't give her the opportunity. She stood up, put the sketch back into the envelope, and exited the lobby.

She knew her jab was a little harsh but she was in no mood to be messed with. The adrenaline was causing her pulse to sound loudly in her ears and she had several calls she needed to make. She looked at her watch and groaned. 9:28 AM.

No, she couldn't do any of that. What she needed to do was head home for father/daughter day.

She got into her car, placed the offensive envelope into her messenger bag and removed the rubber gloves, throwing them on the passenger side floor. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and her knuckles turned from pink to white.

"He hasn't followed me here. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Each time she repeated those words she believed them less.

Veronica had carefully honed her skill of compartmentalization since her high school days, but she had very rarely been able to hide anything from her dad. Even when she hadn't shared the details of her troubles, he had always known when she was out of sorts. Since the fallout of her investigation into The Castle her freshman year of college, he had become relentless in his pursuit of the facts where they concerned Veronica. This meant she had exactly twelve minutes to convince herself that nothing was wrong so that when she saw her dad, she could convince him of the same thing.

She slipped her mask of unaffected disinterest back on, and as much as she sometimes hated it, she acknowledged she wore it well.

* * *

Father/daughter day, while not an unmitigated disaster, was the exact opposite of everything Veronica needed on that particular Monday. When she got home she clued her dad into her now vegan kosher friendship with Logan and her plans for the following evening, then the two of them set off for their whirlwind day. They went to their favorite diner for a proper breakfast, then took in a double feature at the $3 second run cinema (_Moneyball _for her dad, _Tucker and Dale Vs. Evil_ for her), and had tacos at the best taco truck in Neptune, before heading to the mall to spend a little time finishing up Christmas shopping. They agreed to meet at the food court in forty-five minutes as they each only had a few gifts to pick up.

In truth, Veronica only had Alicia's gift to buy, and it took her less than ten minutes to pick up the full line of Alicia's favorite skin care products from The Body Shop. She headed for the Starbucks that overlooked the food court and sat down to make a few calls.

Both the Los Angeles and Chicago post office branches agreed to fax Veronica the proof of ID that had been provided to open the PO Boxes and the accompanying invoices. She gave them the fax number for Mars Investigations, and now just had to figure a way to sneak out of her dad's grip for a few minutes to stop by and pick them up. She looked at her watch again and hurriedly made her final call.

Agent Erin Baxter picked up on the second ring. "Veronica Mars, my protégée and greatest let down."

"If it isn't Erin Baxter, the strong arm of the law herself."

"That's Agent Strongarm to you."

"And that's Greatest-Let-Down, future M.D. to you." Erin's laughter brought some much needed levity to Veronica's day. Despite everything that had happened after her internship, Veronica had been incredibly tempted to return to the FBI simply to work with Agent Baxter again.

"I'm surprised to hear from you, Mars. My annual call to beg and plead for you to come back isn't scheduled to take place until after the holidays. Unless you're calling me to finally concede defeat?"

"While I hate to be the one to dash your dreams upon the rocks…"

"Don't lie to me, Mars. You love it."

Veronica didn't respond immediately. She had pulled out the manila envelope from her bag and was staring at the sketch once more. In the drawing she was smiling broadly, and whoever had drawn it had shadowed it in such a way that her cheeks looked flushed.

"Veronica, where'd you go? Are you okay?" The use of her first name brought Veronica back to the moment. They only used one another's first names when they were being serious.

"Erin, I know you told me nothing could be found on those drawings I sent you, but I just wanted to check in again."

"Nothing, Veronica. No fingerprints and the handwriting wasn't a match. No known stalkers fit the profile. We even did a search for all the phrases that were written, and there's nothing in the database about them ever being used in connection to a case. Did something else happen?"

Veronica stared at the sketch lying on the table, and began to fiddle with her necklace, idly sliding the charm back and forth on the silver chain. "I got sent another one. Here in Neptune."

"Did they send it…"

"No, not from Neptune. It was sent from Chicago." Staring at her own image was starting to turn her stomach, so Veronica flipped it over, but she found everything about the message on the other side even more troubling. She screwed her eyes shut to block it all out.

"Veronica, I don't know why you're not more worried about this. This person has had you in their sightlines for almost seven years now. You need to take this to the police."

"No, Erin. Not yet. Whoever is doing this has a fixation, but they're not dangerous."

"Jesus. You take one profiling class and you think you're an expert? These things always escalate, and given this person's long term fascination, I would say they are one step away."

Erin was saying the things Veronica had been trying to keep quiet in her head for a while now. And she shuddered as she thought about the way the person who had sent her the sketches had silently been a part of her life for so long. First in Neptune, then in LA, and now in Chicago.

"I don't know why you waited so long to tell someone about this as is."

"I didn't know, Erin. I thought they were just a misguided attempt at romance. As soon as I realized I was wrong, you were the first person I called."

"But I was the only person, wasn't I? Look, you were only here three months, Mars, but you became family to a lot of us. And looking into this for you was the least we could have done. But we're really worried."

"I'll be fine." Veronica opened her eyes and shoved the sketch back into the envelope, holding the corner with a napkin from Starbucks.

"No, you won't, Veronica. You're too close to this. This person has a clearly personal interest in you, and you don't have any idea why."

"But if it's personal, then I need to be the one who figures it out. I'm the key somehow."

"And you can't see the trees for the forest. You're right, you are the key, but you're missing things. I'm sure of it. This person has rattled you and there are probably clues right in front of your face that you're glossing over. You're making it personal in all the wrong ways."

"What do I do?"

"Take it to the police."

Veronica slammed her hands on the table in frustration. Customers sitting at nearby tables sipping lattes and peppermint hot chocolates look startled at the interruption to their Christmas revelry. "No. Erin, I can't do that. If my dad finds out, he's going to lock me up and throw away the key." Both women remained silent for a few seconds, and Veronica breathed heavily, trying to slow her heart rate.

"Veronica, what's going on? Something has gotten you more worked up about this than normal."

Veronica sighed and gulped down the last ounces of her iced tea. "He changed his pattern."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Veronica knew that she had been right. Changing the pattern was bad news. "How so?"

"I wasn't supposed to even get a package at all and the words on the back were different. They were clear and cogent. He welcomed me back to Neptune."

"Veronica, your dad has the time and the resources needed to figure out who is doing this. You need to tell him."

Ignoring the advice entirely, Veronica focused on an aspect of the case which she and Erin had long disagreed on. "You always do that, you know? I also refer to whoever is doing this as a 'he' and you always say 'person.'"

"Like I said, Veronica, you're too close to this. You have no idea if it's a he or a she, and jumping to conclusions prematurely is dangerous."

"But isn't it true that the vast majority of stalkers are former intimate partners? You call it jumping to conclusions, I call it making a logical leap."

"You've already ruled out all your intimate partners. Besides, when you started being stalked, your only former intimate partner was Duncan Kane, who from what you tell me is still on the run and overseas. So explain to me how he managed to send you packages postmarked in Neptune, LA, and Chicago."

Veronica was silent, and Erin knew she was shutting down, uncomfortable with being asked questions she didn't know the answer to.

"Look, Veronica, this isn't an official case so I can't make you do something you don't want to do. But if you insist on keeping this from your dad…"

"Which I do."

Erin sighed, clearly exasperated at Veronica's stubbornness. "If you're not going to tell your dad, you need to tell someone else who knows you well. They might help you see some of what you're missing."

"That'd be Wallace or Logan. But Wallace would freak, and Logan…well, he'd freak too." She held the envelope with the napkin and placed it in her messenger bag, hiding it between the pages of her textbook in case her dad happened to look in her bag.

"Pick one and tell them, Veronica. I hate to bust out an ultimatum here, but if you don't tell someone soon, my fingers are going to have a hard time not dialing the number for the Chicago PD and telling them what's going on."

"You wouldn't." She felt her eyes begin to mist over. She was dealing with two kinds of fear. The first was fear that Erin was right, and she was in fact in a dangerous situation. And the second was fear that Erin would really call the police and she'd be made to feel like a victim again.

"You know I would."

"Please don't, Erin. I'll tell someone. I promise." Veronica wiped her eyes with the napkin, ignoring the stares of those in Starbucks fascinated by this woman who had gone from angry to weepy in a matter of seconds.

"Good. Now, I need you to do two other things for me."

"Alright, alright. You can have my first born child."

"Not that. Any child of yours is bound to be a handful, and I'm not as spry as I once was. First, you need to have a Merry Christmas. And second, I need you to seriously consider coming back this summer. If you don't want to be a field agent, I get it, but I showed one of the best investigative specialists your file and he wants to meet you, Veronica."

"Erin." They had had this conversation about the FBI more times than Veronica could count. It wasn't just once a year Erin called. Erin had called her at least three times a year since her internship freshman year. Sometimes it was just to chat, but it always ended with her begging Veronica to reconsider coming back.

"Just think about it. That's all I ask."

"Okay. I concede to both of your requests. Consider a Merry Christmas already had, and I'll definitely think about the FBI thing."

"Call me when you've clued someone in. Until then, the number for Chicago is going in my speed dial."

"Well, Agent Strongarm, you've lived up to your name once again."

"Take care of yourself, Veronica. Be safe."

"I will if you will."

Veronica hung up just as she saw her dad round the corner below and stand in line for Orange Julius. She texted him that she was a few minutes away and asked him to get her an orange pineapple smoothie. Her hands were on the table, all ten fingers spread out in front of her and she took in several deep breaths. She picked up one hand but it was noticeably shaking, so she placed it back on the table and took a few more breaths.

She hated feeling this way. Out of control, and incapable of doing anything to get control back. When Veronica had first concluded the sketches were sent to her by a stranger, she had run into the bathroom and thrown up. Each sketch had contained a message on the back and they all ended with "I love you." She had almost a Pavlovian response to the words now. Even when her dad said them, she felt nauseous. Whoever this person was, she hated them the most for that.

But now she was in Neptune with her dad and Wallace, and she knew both men loved her. Mac would arrive on Saturday, and while not overly touchy feely, she trusted Mac loved her. And Logan was here. Veronica didn't know for sure, but she hoped against hope that in some small way he still loved her.

She stood up, hands now steady as a rock, and went to join her dad.

* * *

The next stop on the father/daughter day train was home, where they ordered Chinese delivery for dinner. Veronica would normally have eaten her beef with broccoli with ardor, but the events of the day had left her with little appetite. Her dad noticed, so she threw in an occasional yawn and rubbed her eyes so he would stop looking at her with concern and simply assume she was tired.

The faxes she needed were waiting for her at Mars Investigations, and she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing they were there. She considered sneaking out in the middle of the night to go and collect them, but figured her dad's reaction if he woke up while she was still gone wouldn't be worth it. After moving one piece of broccoli around the circumference of her plate, she settled on the direct approach. She perched the end of her chopsticks on her plate and looked up to say, "Dad" just as her dad swallowed his bite of Kung Pao chicken and said, "Veronica."

Veronica gestured for her dad to go first and she picked up her chopsticks again, this time moving the piece of broccoli in a zig zag pattern along the diameter of the plate. "Beloved daughter of mine. How much would you hate me if I went to the office briefly? Just one, maybe two hours, max."

She attempted to spear the broccoli with one chopstick, and when she was successful, held it up and then chomped down loudly. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"When you were out this morning, I worked from home and made a pretty significant break for a client. They can't meet tomorrow, so I wanted to get it to them tonight." Veronica laughed internally at the way her dad was trying to be vague, avoiding the use of personal pronouns, so she wouldn't suspect who the client was. Despite his best attempts, she was fairly certain she already knew who he was planning to meet.

Veronica waved the now empty chopstick in the air. "Who could be so important, that my dear old dad would abandon his daughter to go work at 7:30 at night?"

She saw the struggle play out on her dad's face. He was wondering if he should avoid, flat out lie, or obfuscate the truth. "Dad, cool it. I know you're meeting Logan. This is perfect actually, because I need to use the computer at the office."

She stood up, grabbed both of their plates and dropped them in the sink.

"Sweetie, you're not going to the office to do something like place a tracker on Logan's car are you?"

"Believe it or not, dad, I do use my PI license for more than keeping tabs on my ex-boyfriend. One of my friends in Chicago is going on a date tomorrow night with a guy she met online and I told her I'd do a quick background check for her."

"And they say romance is dead." Her dad stood up and began closing containers of take out and putting them away in the fridge. "So, this really has nothing to do with Logan?"

"Not this time. In fact, can we drive separately? My search should only take a few minutes and I'd like to come home as soon as I'm done rather than wait around for you."

Keith stood with his back to the fridge, keeping a watchful eye on his daughter as she wiped down the counter and tossed a few serving utensils into the sink. "Veronica Mars, place your right hand over your heart and raise your left hand."

Veronica sighed, but put the dishrag on the counter and did as she was told.

"Please repeat after me. I, Veronica Anne Mars."

"I, Veronica Anne Mars."

"Solemnly swear that I am not following my dad to the office in order to impede his work with Logan Echolls."

"What you said. Amen." Veronica picked up the dish rag and tossed it into the sink. "Can we go now? I'd like to get home in enough time to call my friend and watch Conan."

Veronica didn't think too much about how easily the lies she told her dad rolled off her tongue. She was glad that the thing her dad made her promise not to do was currently the furthest thing from her mind. Yes, she still wanted to know what was going on with Logan, but that was going to have to wait until the following day when she was at Logan's house and could more easily weasel information out of the source.

When Keith and Veronica pulled up in their separate vehicles, Logan's Lexus was already parked outside of Mars Investigations. He stepped out as Keith and Veronica got out of their respective cars and stood at the front entrance of the office.

"Don't tell me, Mr. Mars. The news is so bad you had to bring reinforcements?"

"Actually, my darling daughter is here for altruistic reasons that are supposedly not at all related to you."

Logan quirked an eyebrow at Veronica and she nodded in false solemnity.

"Protecting one friend at a time from online sociopaths. It's a lonely calling, but one I treat with the uttermost seriousness." Veronica leaned in slightly and poked Logan's chest with her index finger. "If you ever start online dating, god help us all."

Keith unlocked the door, preemptively rolling his eyes at the jabs he knew were going to be lobbed back and forth.

"Come on, Veronica. You think I'd stoop to online dating? You know what meeting women is like for me."

"Like shooting fish on Ambien in a barrel."

"Yes, if the fish willingly flopped themselves out of the barrel and threw themselves at my feet."

Veronica and Logan followed Keith as he opened the door and stepped inside, turning on the overhead light and the lamp sitting on Veronica's former desk. "Dad, does it feel stuffy in here to you? I think Logan's ego is sucking up all the oxygen."

"'One may understand the cosmos, but never the ego.' G.K. Chesterton."

"'Logan Echolls, kiss my ass.' Veronica Mars."

"Veronica Mars, gladly."

Neither had noticed that with each comment they made, they moved closer together until they were invading one another's personal space. The sound of file folders falling to the ground in her dad's office made them aware of their surroundings. Keith walked out of his office hitting the edge of his coffee cup with a spoon in a constant rhythm. "Ding, ding, ding. Round two over?"

Logan fixed Veronica with a stare and he felt a grin pull up the edges of his mouth. "I was just getting started, Mr. Mars."

"Well, too bad for you, I have no interest in being here all night. Logan, I have the information for you in my office. Veronica, I'll see you at home." Keith stepped back into his office and Veronica met Logan's stare.

She smiled at Logan and hit him affectionately on the shoulder. "Good thing Papa Mars stepped in. There was no way you were going to win that one."

"Anytime you want to go for round three, you just let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Veronica unconsciously licked her lips and felt supremely proud of herself when Logan's eyes went straight to her mouth. He nervously cleared his throat and took a step back from her as if she was suddenly too potent to be close to.

Veronica's eyes flicked to the fax machine and she saw several pieces of paper turned downwards. She gestured with her head to her dad's office. "You better get in there. He gets all Hulk like when he's kept waiting."

Logan took two steps towards her dad's office and then turned around. "So, you're really not here to pump me?" He did his best to keep a straight face, and continued. "For information, I mean."

She glared at him, keenly aware of his implied meaning. "No."

Logan smiled again, and he looked so at ease, so happy. She felt it in her gut. She had missed him looking like that. She had missed being the person who helped him look like that.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look like you just went somewhere."

"Yeah. I just - I just missed you, Logan. And I'm glad you have my dad. I didn't tell you that before."

He took a small step towards her, one hand smoothing his tie out as he did. "Do friends hug? Because I'd like to hug you."

"I don't know." She took a tentative half step towards him, but he took a determined full one towards her, reached out and brought her to him. Her arms around his waist, his arms around her shoulders, her face pressed to his chest, his chin resting on her head. She stopped herself from inhaling his scent, or from rubbing a hand along his lower back. Instead she consciously breathed in and out through her mouth, and allowed her eyes to close for a split second before pulling away.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

His hands rested on her shoulders for a moment. She could see him move to kiss her forehead, but at the last second he turned his head to the side and nodded before pulling away. He turned around and stepped into her dad's office. When he shut the door, Veronica let herself break out into a grin that rivaled Logan's.

_God. Should you be able to feel a hug in the tips of your toes? _

Veronica grabbed the papers, seven in total, off the fax machine and found information that confirmed what she had already suspected. Both LA and Chicago had faxed her copies of her driver's license and passport, but unlike in Neptune, whoever had opened the PO Box account had used her more up to date ID. Both accounts were paid for annually with a cash payment. The one in LA was opened January 2009, and the one in Chicago was opened August 2010.

The faxes from LA also contained a copy of the submitted online application for a box rental. In the comments section she read that the person's first choice box number was 1004, and then box 106 was requested in the event box 1004 was unavailable.

Veronica had long suspected the PO Box numbers themselves were significant as both her Neptune and Chicago PO Boxes were 1004. She knew it was too peculiar to be a coincidence, but she had never figured out what the numbers 106 and 1004 referenced. Erin suggested they corresponded to dates: October 2004 and January 2006. While that made sense, Veronica had repeatedly been over her actions during those months and she wasn't any closer to understanding their importance.

October 2004 was the fall of her junior year and was the month wherein she had dated and broken up with Troy, and solved a few cases for classmates, including Wallace's short lived girlfriend Georgia. January 2006 she was still dealing with the fallout of Meg's death and had begun to put the pieces into place to help Duncan flee the country.

There wasn't any overlap between those events and she knew she was missing something. Veronica wasn't a girl who kept a diary detailing her daily activities, and even if she did she wasn't convinced she'd be able to understand the significance those dates held for the person sending the letters. Erin had told her the dates most likely had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with whatever warped reality whoever was sending the sketches ascribed to.

She tucked the photocopies into her bag and leaned over to turn off the desk lamp. As she did, she saw Logan's file sitting out on her old desk, plain as day, presumably left there by her dad when they had first come into the office. She knew it would be easy enough to slip into her bag and peruse from the comfort of her dad's home, but dealing with someone who had been stalking her off and on for seven years made her a little wary of behaving in any way that could be deemed irrational. Instead she picked up the file and knocked lightly on her dad's office door.

"Come in."

Veronica opened the door and popped her head in, keeping the majority of her body out in the lobby. "I just wanted to let you know I was heading back to the house." She stood up straight and removed her grip on the door handle and then walked into the office, dropping Logan's file on the desk. "Logan's file was out there and I thought you might need it."

Before her dad could settle his face into any sort of expression, Veronica turned and looked at Logan, whose face registered a mixture of embarrassment and concern. "I didn't look at it. I would suggest you fire my dad for leaving such sensitive information out in the open, but I hear you're not paying."

Logan's features immediately relaxed and he held his hands up towards the ceiling. "You get what you pay for, I guess."

She took another couple steps to exit the office and then bent over so her mouth was close to Logan's ear. "I hope you appreciate the sheer force of will it took for me not to open that file. And I would like to be rewarded by having you tell me what's going on voluntarily." She stood back up and enjoyed being the one who towered over Logan for once. "It can be tomorrow night when I come over or sometime later this week, but you will tell me."

Logan moved his head the smallest amount, and Veronica registered it as a nod. She backed herself out of the door and looked at her dad as she did. "If Logan suggests playing a drinking game, concede defeat right away. He may look slight, but the man can hold his liquor."

Logan continued to look at Keith's office door and didn't turn his eyes away until he heard the outer door to Mars Investigations open and then close. When he looked back at Keith, he could almost read the question in his eyes.

"You were always planning on telling her, weren't you?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders, which Keith had learned over the past several months was as close to an emphatic 'yes' as Logan would ever provide. "High school girls everywhere know they're going to give it up on prom night. Still feels good to be asked."

* * *

Two hours later, the small but significant amount of information Keith had collected had been related to Logan, and Keith was now entertaining them both with story after story of the most ridiculous cases he had seen whilst he was sheriff.

Logan's head was thrown back and he had his arms clutched around his stomach which had cramped up from prolonged laughter. "What the hell was he thinking?"

Keith wiped away a tear that was forming in his right tear duct. "He told us that he figured none of the guns would be loaded since they were for sale." Which just caused Logan to laugh even harder. "But all the employees at the store had concealed weapons permits, so when Terry came in, baseball bat smashing everything in sight, the clerk just pulled out his own gun."

Logan doubled over with laughter, hinging at the waist, uncertain if he was going to be able to catch his breath.

"And then." Logan's laughter was contagious and Keith stuttered and stopped through his own to get out the actual punch line of the case. "And then, he called the sheriff's department and insisted we arrest the clerk for pulling a gun on him."

Logan sat back up, and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Well, at least he didn't bring a whiffle bat." Which was enough to send both men into another fit of hysterics.

Keith recovered first, and as he saw Logan try to gain his composure, it occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever seen Logan laugh. He had seen Logan smile, lord knows he had seen Logan smirk, but he had never seen him laugh.

Logan leaned forward and stood up slowly. "Thanks for that, Mr. Mars. I really needed a good laugh."

Keith stood as well and nodded his head soberly. "Logan, I'm making your case a top priority for the next couple of weeks. Let it be my Christmas present to you." Keith extended his hand across his desk, and Logan took it, both men shaking firmly.

"Okay, but these periodic progress reports are kind of killing me. Maybe just call me when you've uncovered all there is to know."

Keith nodded that he would and Logan turned to leave the office. Keith followed after him and by the time they reached the door that led out to the hallway, he had talked himself out of and back into asking Logan about his relationship with Veronica at least three times. He was busy putting a series of items into the mental column labeled 'reasons for butting in' when Logan's voice startled him.

"You know, Veronica gets the same look on her face when she's debating whether or not to ask an awkward question."

"Must be genetic."

Logan let out a puff of air that may have been laughter, but could also have been him steeling himself for the impending inquiry. "Mr. Mars, you can ask me anything."

"Could you put that in writing for me?" Keith began shifting his weight between his two feet, and Logan could tell he was trying to ground himself. Whatever question he was about to ask was going to be a doozy.

"Logan, anyone can see that you still have feelings for my daughter. And unless I'm much mistaken, you've felt this way since high school."

Logan looked grim and nodded. Apparently Keith was taking on the role of 'Ghost of Relationships Past.'

"I know that Veronica can be a tad prickly, but even she had to have known how you felt."

"Well, I told her every chance I could, so I hope so."

"There's only one reason I can think of that would make Veronica close the door on you." Keith stopped talking, and it seemed as if he thought he had made his point.

"I'm not trying to be obtuse here, Mr. Mars, but what are you asking me?"

"Did you ever cheat on my daughter?"

Logan felt as if he had been hit in the stomach, the air rushing out of him in one quick whoosh. "No! No, Mr. Mars. I would never…I would never do that."

Logan hadn't yet opened the door to leave the office, but his hand was on the doorknob, and he had never felt the urge to run more strongly. He willed himself to let go of the handle, and then took a few steps towards Keith, passing him, and then sitting down a little more firmly than he intended on the couch.

Less emphatically than he had first answered, Logan said "no" again, but wasn't certain whether it was for his or Keith's benefit.

Keith sighed and sat down next to him, flopping his head back on the edge of the couch, and turning his head to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're not really selling me on that answer, Logan."

Logan closed his eyes, and rubbed his hands over his face, before resting them on his knees. "I never cheated on Veronica, Mr. Mars. You have to believe me. But…"

Keith sat up, and raised an eyebrow, a note of slight warning in his voice. "But?"

Logan stood up quickly, the proximity of being so close to Veronica's father suddenly too much. He began pacing back and forth, not certain whether he was going to answer or leave. "Is it too late for me to take back the 'ask me anything' offer?"

"Talk, Logan. You never cheated on Veronica, but what?"

"Okay, so I'm not trying to make excuses here, but I kind of had the worst role model in the history of the world teach me about women." Logan groaned and ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with this topic of conversation. He continued to pace back and forth, but his tempo had slowed slightly. "On my thirteenth birthday my dad gave me a box of condoms and 'the talk' which was mostly a warning he would kill me if I ever got a girl pregnant."

He stopped pacing the room, and had turned his back to Keith, clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them again and again. Keith didn't know if he was trying to stop himself from punching something, or if it was just a nervous habit.

"My dad was, well, my dad. And my mom was, well, my mom. And my first girlfriend was Lily. All of that added up to a pretty fucked up understanding of relationships."

Logan had stopped talking and Keith could hear him breathing heavily. He wasn't certain if that was all Logan had intended to say, but it sounded as if he was working himself up to an admission of infidelity. Keith stood up and walked to where Logan was turned away from him. He stepped in front of Logan, but several feet back so Logan didn't feel trapped, and nodded that he wanted him to continue.

"When Veronica and I got back together before college, I felt like the consolation prize. Like she was only with me because Duncan wasn't around anymore. I never cheated, but I would…I don't know…I guess I'd test her sometimes to see how she actually felt about me, and the easiest way to do that was with other women." Knowing that that was the worst of what he had to admit, Logan took several steps back until he felt the couch behind his legs, and sat down heavily.

"Girls would hit on me in front of her, and I wouldn't mention Veronica was my girlfriend. Or, they'd give me their number, and I'd leave it in my pants pocket on purpose to see if she'd notice. Because I thought that if she was getting jealous, then it meant she cared."

Keith looked at Logan, who sat hunched over with his elbows on his knees, looking absolutely miserable and ashamed.

"How'd that work out for you?" Keith moved over to the desk and sat on the edge.

"Better than I wanted it to." At Keith's frown, Logan continued. "Jealousy gave way to suspicion. She tracked my phone, once for sure, maybe more than once, I don't know. I could see it happening, and I knew it was my fault, but I couldn't undo it. So, I just tried to be better, not play so many games but at that point." He threw his hands up in the air, not quite certain how to finish his thought.

Keith crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "It was too late?"

Logan nodded and then slouched low on the couch.

_Let it be over. Please say he's done._

"If you didn't cheat, then why did it end?"

_Well, shit._

Logan began to pick at the cuticles of his left hand with his right thumbnail. If it hadn't been so quiet in the office, Keith would have missed Logan's answer. "When we were broken up around Christmas I slept with someone I shouldn't have. She couldn't get past it."

Logan's eyes were getting brighter with the sheen of held in tears, and Keith was surprised to see the way this young man was again experiencing the hurt and regret of that mistake so clearly, as if it had recently happened.

"Fuck. Why did I just tell you all this?"

"Because I asked you." Keith steepled his fingers, brought them towards his lips, and then pointed them at Logan, affecting a tone he had borrowed from Dr. Phil. "Logan, I hope you can understand now why using that tactic with a girl whose mother had been having a long term affair wasn't conducive to developing a relationship of trust and understanding."

Logan rubbed his forehead as if fending off a migraine. "Hindsight, et cetera."

"Well, you were an idiot. No one will deny that fact. But I think you'll survive."

"We'll see." Logan was exhausted. The fact he had only had a Cliff bar for dinner wasn't helping. He wanted to go home, fall asleep, and forget this embarrassing display of emotion had ever happened, but he knew Keith wasn't finished with him yet. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"Can I offer you some fatherly type advice?"

"I don't know if I'd be able to recognize it. Aaron's advice usually took the form of admonishments in the 'don't make me regret having you as a son' variety."

Logan still had his eyes closed, and Keith wondered how it was possible for him to say such things so matter of factly. They rolled off his tongue like they were baseball stats, or a grocery list, not what he knew must be painful memories.

"Well, my advice is bound to include a few 'atta boys' and a 'when I was your age,' if I can manage. Think you can handle it?"

Logan kept his eyes closed, but a slight smile tugged at his lips and he nodded.

"A few months after Veronica moved to LA, I was on a plane to Denver to go after a bail jumper I had been tracking. When I got on the plane I was relieved to find my seatmate was a fairly normal looking man in his early sixties. I wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat, and thought I would be safe." Logan opened his eyes and sat up a little straighter, angling his body to face Keith.

"I sat down and immediately he starts talking to me, asking about my life, and family, and job. By the time the flight attendants started their safety demonstration, he had heard a good part of my life story. Then, just before take-off he goes to turn off his cell phone, and breaks out into an ear to ear grin. His wife had sent him a text message telling him to have a good flight." Keith shook his head slightly as he remembered, and Logan slid over on the couch a few inches closer to the desk.

"Based on how this guy grinned, I figured he was a newlywed with a trophy wife. But after we take off, he pulls out a photo of her, and she's this totally normal looking woman with gray hair in her late fifties. We spent the next three hours talking about his wife, and his family, and Lianne, and love in general. I asked him how he did that. How he could still have the look he did after being married for thirty-five years."

Logan looked down at his feet.

_The longest me Veronica ever made it was six and a half months. How the hell does anyone make it thirty-five years?_

"He told me first and foremost to forget about finding someone who made me a better person." Logan looked up and stared intently at Keith, the young man's surprise apparent. "He told me that the secret was to find someone who helped you love other people better. Because loving someone for the way they make you feel is easy, but loving someone because they make you better for others, that's hard."

Logan furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work out what Keith had just said. "Is that really the secret?"

"I'm not saying it's THE secret, no, but it works for him and his wife."

"So you believe him, then?

"I will say this. Being with Alicia does make me a better man for myself, but it also makes me a better father to Veronica, a better boss to my employees. I guess she makes me better for me and for others."

Logan stood up. "Why are you telling me this, Mr. Mars?"

"It's pretty simple, Logan. Does being with Veronica make you better for others? And even more important, do you make her better?"

Keith could see Logan sorting through memories, undoubtedly sorting some in the good file and some in the bad, trying to answer the question for both himself and Veronica. After a few seconds, he looked at Keith with an almost fearful expression. "I don't know."

"Well, then figure it out." Keith hopped down from the desk and genially slapped Logan's shoulder.

"Mr. Mars, do _you_ think that I do that for her? Do I make Veronica better?" He began to walk towards the exit, and Keith walked beside him.

"I can't say one way or the other, but she fights for you, and for Veronica, that means something."

Logan nodded again. "Thanks Mr. Mars." He opened the door and took one step before Keith stopped him.

"Logan, why do you keep calling me Mr. Mars? I told you to call me Keith."

Logan shrugged. "I like it. I like that there's someone older than me I can actually respect. It's, uh…it's been a long time since I had that. My elders have been…disappointing."

Keith laughed. "You routinely swear and hit on my daughter in my presence, but you draw the line at calling me Keith?"

Logan shrugged. "Have to draw the line somewhere."

"Well, I promise that my sheen of greatness will remain untarnished, regardless of what you call me. Good night, Logan." Logan smirked, and turned down the hall once more.

Keith stepped into his office, grabbed his keys and briefcase, and turned off the lights before stepping out and locking the door to Mars Investigations. He walked out of the building and pulled his phone out to check the time and grimaced to see how late it was. Veronica would not be pleased. No doubt that was what the text message she had sent an hour prior intended to communicate.

Keith was more than a little surprised to see what she had actually written.

_From Veronica 8:46 pm_

_Be nice to him, or I'll kick your ass._

He laughed out loud and shook his head. He wished he had checked the message earlier and could have shown the text to Logan as proof.

_See, Logan? She fights for you, even when you don't know she's doing it. _

* * *

**A/N 3: **So there it is, friends! Questions, comments, concerns? I know the stalking story line is something that is often used, but I recently learned that in one year, 6.6 million people in the US reported being victims of stalking, so it seems like something that could very likely happen to V.

**A/N 4: **Also, I went off and got myself a beta. Many, many thanks to Scandalpants who is trying her hardest curb my love for long, long, long sentences and helped me sort out a lot of details for the mystery, including calling the post office to ask about PO Boxes to see how easy it would be to open one up in the someone else's name. (See how I used a ridiculously long sentence to thank her?)


	8. Chapter 8: Spring Breakthrough

**A/N 1: **Thank you for all the amazing reviews from previous chapters, and all those who favorited and followed as a result. It means a lot!

**A/N 2: **The vast majority of the chapter is a flashback to spring break. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8: Spring Breakthrough**

* * *

Veronica had less than an hour before she was supposed to be at Logan's. Yet, there she was, standing in her room wrapped in a towel, no closer to getting dressed. She searched through her wardrobe for a swimsuit and settled on a black bikini with a tie-front halter top. She didn't intend to swim, but figured it'd be odd to show up to a pool party without a suit.

That morning Veronica had spent as much time as possible working on her case. She had stopped at her dad's office under the pretext of dropping off his lunch, but also managed to pocket a jar of fingerprint powder. Hunkered down in a quiet corner of a coffee shop, her suspicions were confirmed. There weren't any usable fingerprints on the sketch, and there were too many on the envelope to be of much use.

After that failed attempt, she went to an arts supply store to see if they could provide any insight into the materials that had been used to create the drawing. The clerk told her the paper came from a run-of-the-mill sketch book, and the pencils used were slightly above average graphite. Once she got a few additional leads, she planned to visit several art supply stores in Chicago and see if that turned up anything useful. For the time being, that part of the investigation had stalled.

When she got back to her dad's she spread out every sketch that had been given to her. She took a stack of post-it notes from her dad's office and spent the next hour labeling each sketch with the date it was received, the phrase that was written on the back, and any details of the sketch that caught her attention. In addition she wrote the names Logan, Duncan, Piz, Jared, and Skyler on the appropriate post-it notes. Almost her entire romantic history on display before her on a series of sticky notes. Was one of these men in some way responsible for what was happening to her?

She arranged the sketches in the order they had been received and noted their variety. Some of them depicted her with the short and spunky hair she had worn sophomore year of high school, some with her hair long like she had worn it as an undergrad, and some with her hair cut just above her shoulders like she wore it now. She found it odd that they were sent to her out of chronological order. The last sketch she had received in Chicago depicted her with hair just below her chin worn in loose waves. Her hair hadn't been that short since high school. Apparently her stalker was nostalgic. A number of the images looked familiar to her, like she had seen them before, but she couldn't quite place them.

Erin was right. She was too close to this and was overlooking things.

Veronica had carefully put the sketches back in their envelopes, keeping the post-it notes with pertinent information listed, and then changed to go for a long run. This time the distance had been completely intentional. She ran for three miles along the beach, and then back. By the time she returned she had just enough time to make a peanut butter sandwich, take a shower, and get ready to go to Logan's.

Now she stood in her bedroom, wearing the swimsuit she had selected, and rifling through her drawers for an appropriate outfit. Nothing she had packed seemed appealing, so she opened her closet and pulled out a box of summer clothes she kept at her dad's house. She rifled through the box and selected a navy blue halter dress with hook and eye closures up the bodice and eyelet lace at the hem. It was a tad wrinkled, but she flattened it out with her hands the best she could.

Veronica put on the dress, blow dried her hair and styled it into two pigtails at the nape of her neck. She added mascara and a little lip gloss and called it good. Before she left the house, she wrote a note for her dad reminding him where she was spending the evening and promising to be back by 11 PM.

She was two steps away from the front door when she changed her mind and returned to her bedroom to grab the stack of manila envelopes. She wasn't certain if she was going to tell Logan what was going on with her, but having the evidence with her would at least give her the option. With the evidence tucked under her arm, she turned off the lamp in the living room and left, double checking that she had locked the front door.

On her way to Logan's house, she was a bundle of nerves. It partly had to do with seeing Logan's house for the first time. He had told her about the project, but she had never actually seen it. It also had a little to do with seeing Heather again. The last time had been around Christmas her senior year of college.

She had been in Neptune visiting her dad and was running a few errands to get the fixings for Christmas dinner. Her dad had been working late the whole week, so she stopped to pick up a pizza and salad from Cho's to bring to him at the station. She hadn't expected to run into Logan and a young teenage girl sharing a pizza. She had vaguely remembered seeing her a few years before, but when Logan introduced the two of them, everything clicked into place. Veronica may have only seen her once, but she had heard enough stories about Heather from Mac to feel like she knew her.

By the time Veronica's pizza was ready to go, Heather had decided that she and Veronica were destined to be best friends. Over the past couple years, Veronica had received half a dozen texts from Heather, who had presumably gotten her number from Logan, asking for advice on a dress for homecoming, or which brand of lip gloss to commit to. She always responded politely, and Heather insisted she was the absolute greatest, but the two didn't have much of a relationship.

Veronica had stopped interacting with teenage girls the moment she ceased to be one. She wasn't sure she was up for starting a relationship with one of them, but she knew Logan really cared for Heather, and therefore was willing to try.

As she drove to Logan's, Veronica knew three things were true. One, she had every right to ask Logan for what she wanted. And what she wanted was answers. Two, Logan was well within his right to ignore what she wanted. Three, if Logan didn't give her what she wanted, there was very little she could do to get him to change his mind. He didn't belong to her.

Only three days back in Neptune and she was already a mess. She had been the one to suggest to Joanna over their monthly coffee date that this vacation would provide closure to a number of aspects of her life, chief among them her relationship with Logan. Joanna had simply given her a knowing smile.

Veronica had gotten defensive and assured her repeatedly that things were going to change. "Joanna, I can't keep coming back here. I can't keep coming back to this imaginary place in my head where Logan Echolls is the one who got away."

"Well, Veronica, if you can't keep going back there, where will you go?"

Veronica had no idea why both her and Joanna's words had been echoed a week later in a dream she had about Lily. Probably because Joanna was the kind of woman she had hoped Lily would have grown up to be. Fiercely confident, strong willed, passionate about life, and prone to wild acts of fancy. Joanna's PhD in psychology served to steady her, but she was all fire.

Joanna's final words of advice to Veronica that day had been: "Whether you kick him or kiss him, it doesn't really matter. But whatever you choose to do, make sure it's what you truly want. Once you've decided, you need to face the consequences of your choice. No running away. Face it like a woman."

And that's what Veronica intended to do. She'd go to that house and face things like a woman. She'd take Wallace's advice and harness the tenacity that put her at the head of her class in medical school, and gave her a PI record without any unsolved cases, and she'd apply it to her personal life. Hell, she'd done it before. She could do it again.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

True to his word, Logan set out for LA on the 19th. When he texted Veronica at 10 AM that he was just leaving Neptune, she had to stop herself from pacing the length of her apartment the entire two hours it took him to get there.

The plan had not been well thought out. Their only contact, aside from their brief interaction that Christmas, had been through the mail. They hadn't discussed where he was staying during his time in LA, nor had she mentioned that it was going to be just the two of them for the week. Veronica had always intended for Logan to stay at her place, but she hadn't figured out how to mention that to him. Her roommate Alison, also a pre-med student, was out of town and had given permission for Logan to use her room.

Alison had made it clear to Veronica that she thought that by remaining single Veronica was wasting her hotness and the opportunity to hook up with a plethora of handsome, soon to be wealthy doctors. When Veronica mentioned Logan was going to visit for break, Alison actually attempted a cartwheel in their living room, only to fall flat on her bottom. Even if she hadn't already had plans to road trip with her own boyfriend to Vegas for spring break, Alison would have found a way to leave Logan and Veronica alone.

A knock sounded on the outside of Veronica's front door at the same time she pulled out the final batch of peanut butter M&M cookies from the oven, a blatant attempt to try and make herself useful.

No matter how many times she reminded herself that Logan was just a friend, and that they hadn't dated for close to three years, she couldn't stop the racing of her heart as she walked the ten feet to the door. She had no idea what she was going to say when she saw him, but thankfully Logan helped her with that. The second she opened the door he gathered her up into a tight hug.

She held her hands semi-loose at her sides until she heard him say, "God, I missed you", which was all she needed to encourage her to wrap her arms tightly around him. She managed to choke out a, "Me too", before he let her go.

Logan sniffed the air and took a step inside her apartment. "Peanut butter cookies?" He walked over to the cooling rack and grabbed a cookie, then opened the fridge to pull out the carton of milk. He was making it clear that awkwardness was not allowed. They were friends, and they were going to act like it.

She rolled her eyes and closed the door. "By all means, make yourself at home."

After her third cookie, Veronica told him that if he was expecting a bellhop to collect his bag from his car, he'd sadly be kept waiting for a while. He'd be better off getting it himself. Veronica assumed that on his way out to his car, he'd called whatever hotel he had made a reservation at and cancelled it.

On that first day, Veronica had intended to head down to Olvera Street for Mexican food but, just as she was going to make the suggestion, she received a text from the editor of _The Daily Bruin_, UCLA's newspaper. He begged and pleaded with Veronica to head to the women's softball home game. Their regular sports photographer had the stomach flu. Veronica said no, but Logan insisted it was okay, so they made their way to Easton Stadium instead.

The two of them stood on the sidelines and talked while eating overpriced stadium food, pausing periodically for Veronica to take a few photos. Logan took to guessing which members of the team actually fulfilled the popular stereotype of softball players, and Veronica eventually got him to shut up by pointing out that the vast majority of the team could probably beat him up without much effort.

The game ended with the Bruins losing 4-1. "Well," Logan said, "at least in softball they don't have to watch their team lose for nine innings." Veronica shot him a glare and then laughed when she noticed the entire team had heard Logan's comment and were also staring him down.

They headed from the game to her editor's office to drop off the photos and since she promised to be quick, Logan waited in the lobby of the newspaper office. When she returned to the lobby, having declined Jerry's offer for more work that week, Logan was staring transfixed at a framed photo on the wall. It was of a UCLA Bruins football player who had obviously climbed into the stands, still wearing all of his football gear except his helmet. The player had both his arms around a girl's waist and they were in the midst of a heated makeout. The crowd around the couple was turned toward them and cheering them on and a few of the male fans were slapping the player on the back.

Veronica blushed at the intensity with which Logan was staring at the photo. She didn't know he was even aware she had walked into the room, until he glanced at her for a brief second before turning his eyes back to the picture. "Damn, Veronica, you're getting good." He looked at her again pointedly and gestured to the photo. "When did you get this good?"

Veronica walked over to where Logan was standing and frowned. The photo didn't have a sign saying she had taken it, and she didn't sign it. "How'd you know I took this?"

Logan shrugged. "I could just tell." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out two twenty dollar bills. "Think this will cover it?"

"Cover what?"

Logan didn't respond and walked over to the reception desk and chatted briefly with the student sitting there. He handed her the two twenties and Veronica saw the student nod and smile, first at Logan, and then at her. He walked away from the receptionist and back to Veronica where he took the framed photo off the wall.

"Logan, what the hell are you doing?"

"I've only been in LA four hours and I've already bought art."

An hour later they were sitting on a bench near the inverted fountain, each of them sipping on a fruit smoothie. Logan was flipping through a copy of _The Daily Bruin_, trying to guess which photos Veronica had taken without looking at the credits. After Logan had guessed 12 out of 15 correctly, he turned to see Veronica looking at him.

"What? Do I have smoothie on my face?" He swiped around his mouth just to make sure.

Veronica shook her head. "I won a photo competition." She looked down at her smoothie and fiddled with the straw. "I have a picture up in the student gallery if you want to go see it."

She still hadn't looked up, but did so when Logan whacked her across the head with the newspaper. Just as she was about to settle on an appropriate expletive, he whacked her again. "Geez, Logan. What's your problem?"

"You didn't think that kind of information was postcard worthy?" He stood up and tossed the newspaper in the recycling bin beside the bench. "Which way to the gallery?"

As much as she tried to summon up annoyance at his behavior, she couldn't manage. She punched him lightly in the shoulder and then led the way.

Veronica paid for their admission into the gallery and they passed the first several hallways of contemporary art before arriving at the featured exhibit. She stopped walking and turned around quickly causing Logan to almost bump into her. Placing a hand on each of his arms, she opened her mouth to say something, but then nodded once before turning around and bringing them to round the corner. Logan's eyes darted to the left and right, not certain where they should land. Veronica smiled and pointed to a 16' x 20' photo hung on the wall opposite from them. He grinned and made his way over to where she pointed.

She watched Logan take a few steps closer and noticed his shoulders tense just slightly when he saw it was a photo of him. It was taken on the beach at the time of night when all the colors had faded and the setting sun bathed everything in gold. He was out in the middle of the ocean, lying on his back on his surfboard. His arms were folded behind his head, one foot was dangling in the water, while the other was flat on the board. He was almost completely silhouetted against the gold of the water.

Veronica came and stood beside him. "I wanted to tell you I had won, but it's not like you need any more fodder for your ego."

He looked down at her and she silently pleaded with him. _Don't make a big deal out of this. Please say this is okay._

"Does this mean I can put 'award winning physique' on my résumé?"

She allowed a short puff of air to escape her lips. "I don't even want to think about the kinds of jobs that would qualify you for."

They spent another hour poking around the gallery before heading out to get dinner. After drinks, appetizers, dinner, and dessert, they were the last people to leave the restaurant.

The following day they lounged around her apartment for the better part of the morning, reading the paper, drinking coffee, and watching the last half of _Wayne's World_ on TV. When they got hungry for lunch, they took a long walk to the farmer's market and ate their way through the different stalls and vendors. Veronica had purchased tickets for them to go to an art, chocolate, and wine class downtown later that afternoon. The gallery fed them chocolate and wine, then tried to teach them the basics of form drawing. Logan screwed his eyes intently at what he was working on, but when Veronica took a peak at his canvas, she saw he had merely drawn a series of stick figures in compromising sexual positions.

Clearly the man had no talent for fine art.

They left the gallery and Veronica's mood had dimmed slightly, but she perked up when she saw Logan wobble on his feet. Logan Echolls had gotten day drunk off red wine. He insisted he was just day tipsy, but she steered him to a nearby deli where they ate large Reuben sandwiches to soak up the alcohol before he could be arrested for public intoxication.

By the time they made it back to Veronica's apartment it was close to 9 o'clock and they both wanted to take it easy and watch a movie. He sprawled out on the couch while she curled herself up in the armchair Alison had contributed to the apartment, only making it through the first 20 minutes before falling asleep. She woke up briefly when she felt Logan picking her up from the armchair, but the moment he put her on her bed, she was out again.

On Sunday they spent most of the morning and early afternoon at Espresso Cielo chatting over coffee and biscotti. Occasionally they'd each pick up the book they had brought with them and read for a few minutes. Veronica looked up from her book to see that Logan had switched over to writing, filling up page after page of his black Moleskine.

She wanted to ask him about Sarah and maybe mention she had seen the two of them at the very café where they were now sitting. But was it worth breaking the idyllic moment? Ultimately, she decided it wasn't. She closed her book and placed it on the table and watched him write furiously for a few more seconds.

"What are you writing?" she asked, bringing her mug to her lips and taking a small sip of her third refill of coffee.

Logan kept writing but he smiled, so she knew he had heard her. He put a period at the end of his sentence and closed the notebook. "My advisor wants a detailed outline of my senior thesis by the end of the month. Just writing down some thoughts."

"What's the topic?"

"Not sure yet. But I'll figure it out."

Veronica shook her head, not at all surprised he hadn't decided. But if the critical essays he had published in Hearst's literary magazine were any indication, his thesis would be well thought out and articulate. She hadn't figured out how to mention she was a subscriber to the magazine and a fan of his work.

They sat in amicable silence for a few minutes, drinking their coffee and watching people pass by. Veronica swirled her biscotti in her coffee, took a bite and then looked up at Logan.

"So, how many more postcards will I be sending to the Neptune Grand?"

Logan brushed the crumbs from his scone off his lap and took another sip of coffee. "Funny you should ask. I'm actually moving into a rental end of next month."

Feigning shock, Veronica placed a hand over her heart. "A rental? How the mighty have fallen."

"Well, the bigger they are, the harder they fall." He took another sip of his coffee and stared at her. He always delighted at her annoyance with his inability to easily volunteer information.

She sighed. "But seriously. Where are you moving?"

"I'm building a house. Which is expensive. So, I'm moving into a condo for a while. The condo is fairly close to the construction site."

"Okay, there's a lot for me to process her. First off, you're making a fiscally responsible decision. Shocking. Second, you're building a house! Where?"

Logan smiled and opened his notebook, ripping a blank page out from the back, and began to draw. She leaned over slightly to get a look, so he blocked her view and waggled one finger at her before resuming drawing.

"In the 1990's a neuroscientist named Joseph Ledoux developed an experiment to study the relationship between fear and memory. In his study he'd play a tone for a group of rats and then shock the rats once. Six months, and even a year later, when he played the same tone for the rats they still had a fear response to the sound."

Veronica placed her mug on the table and tried to get another peek at his drawing. He blocked her again, and she groaned. "Logan, what does this have to do with your house?"

He stopped drawing and looked up at her. "Do you mind? I'm expounding over here." Veronica rolled her eyes and waved him on.

"So, these rats only had to be shocked once to forever fear this sound. Then, Ledoux experimented to see what would happen if he injected chemicals called protein synthesis inhibitors into the part of the brain that helps consolidate memories." He rotated the page and kept drawing.

"Please, oh wise one, what did they find out?" The pieces were beginning to click together, but she was frustrated at how he was prolonging the description.

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm," he said, narrowing his eyes, "but I'll tell you anyway." Veronica pretended to wipe a drop of sweat from her brow in relief.

"When they injected this chemical right after the rats heard the tone and experienced the shock, the next time they played the tone, the rats didn't fear it. They kept experimenting with the chemical and discovered that there is a six hour window where they could inject this chemical and change the way the fear memories consolidated. If they waited longer than six hours, the rats would still fear the sound."

"How do you know all this?"

"I read a book. Anyway, what's even weirder is that this six hour window exists for humans too. Which means that when we have a fear response to something, a person, a place, an event, there is a limited amount of time to try and reconsolidate our memory to change our response. You have to start working on overcoming the fear the moment the fear response is triggered, and turn the negative stimulus into a positive stimulus." Logan stopped drawing and flipped the page over so Veronica still couldn't see what he had drawn.

"Okay, so let's say that a person once got stuck in an elevator and therefore always gets anxious when they are on an elevator. If this theory is correct, to overcome that they should…"

"They should have sex in the elevator. Yes."

"Excuse me?" Veronica crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"It was just an example."

"I'm sure."

"It's all about taking what is usually a negative trigger and immediately working through it so it has positive connotations." Logan flipped over the paper and slid it over to Veronica. He had drawn a rather elementary, but clear, floor plan of a house. "That's the house I'm building on the Echolls property."

Veronica looked up at him with wide eyes. "You're rebuilding your house?"

He looked down at his hands before answering. "I don't want to be afraid of him anymore. A lot of good stuff happened there too."

She gingerly ran her fingers along the lines he had drawn.

_Yeah, you idiot, I spent a summer falling in love with you there._

She choked down the memory before she spoke. "Well, tell me about the new Echolls estate." Veronica slid the ground plan so it was in the middle of the table. Logan took his pen and pointed to each room as he spoke.

"Well, not a single room is going to be just for show. Every room is going to be lived in. And it's only going to have three bedrooms and an office, and two of the bedrooms will be guest rooms so friends always have a place to be. Since it's going to be smaller house, I'll have a huge backyard to set up a volleyball court, and have an outdoor patio, and pool." He sat his pen down and his voice got quieter. "And there's not going to be a pool house."

He looked up at her and she nodded her head once then took his hand and held it tightly. He cleared his throat and used his free hand to take a sip of coffee. "I'm painting the master bedroom yellow."

"Why yellow?"

"Because my mom always wanted to, and Aaron refused to sleep in a bedroom that was the color of piss." Veronica was quiet and shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on her hand clasped in Logan's. "What, Veronica?"

"Don't do that Logan." He tried to pull his hand back from hers but she held on and turned her face up to meet his stare. "Don't do something just because it's the opposite of what Aaron would want. Screw Aaron. Do what you want."

She flushed at the way Logan looked at her and she wasn't able to quite process what it meant when he picked up her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome." Veronica ducked her head and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "When it's all finished, I want a VIP tour."

They had dinner at Veronica's house that night and later, before Logan could get out his suggestion they finish the movie they had started the night before, she handed him his keys and told him he was driving to their next location. When they pulled up in front of St. James' Episcopal Cathedral, Logan couldn't hide his confusion.

"Church? You brought me to a church?" Logan parked the car and stared at her. "What about me says church to you?"

She reached into the backseat and grabbed the blanket she knew Logan kept there, and then opened her door to get out of the car. He followed, but kept up his string of complaints. "This whole trip was an attempt to convert me, wasn't it?"

She rolled her eyes and bumped his hip with hers as they walked to the ornate front entrance. "Actually I've joined a new cult and we're hoping you'll bank roll the operation."

He simply frowned at her and said, "I told you people in LA were weird. It was only a matter of time before they got to you."

"Shut up, and trust me." They got to the entrance and Logan opened his mouth to complain again, but Veronica shushed him and pressed a finger to his lips. She pointed to the sign in the foyer of the church. 'Compline in progress. Please enter in silence.' He rolled his eyes again and she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You'll like it. I promise."

As they walked into the church, Logan stopped to stare up at the high ceilings and he felt Veronica press a hand to his lower back to encourage him to keep walking. He moved to sit down in one of the wooden pews, but she shook her head and walked to the back of the room where dozens of people were sprawled out lying on blankets. She spread the blanket out and lay down with her hands behind her head. Logan sat on the blanket and looked around in confusion.

She didn't know the last time Logan had been in a church, but she'd hazard a guess that no service he ever remembered had such a diverse group of people in attendance. On the blanket closest to the two of them was a group of teenagers who were discretely passing a flask back and forth and taking small sips. Behind then were several people sitting in wooden high back chairs with their eyes closed. On another blanket was a group of guys who looked like they'd be more at home at a Dropkick Murphy's concert, lying on their stomachs. In the wooden pews, amongst others, sat couples in their 80's wearing their Sunday best, and a large group of people who looked like they could be homeless.

When the choir director began to recite a scripture passage, she saw in her peripheral vision Logan glare down at her. She felt guilty for a moment that he was so uncomfortable with their surroundings, but then he exhaled a low breath and lay down next to her.

As soon as the choir director stopped speaking the choir that was hidden from their view began singing. The first notes burst out and she heard Logan quietly exclaim, "Woah." Maybe that meant he understood why it was that Veronica and such a diverse group of people would attend this event held only once every six months on a Sunday night.

The room was dim. Candles were lit throughout the whole space. The only voices heard were those of the choir. Most of the teenagers close to Veronica and Logan had fallen asleep curled up on their sides. Veronica moved her hand to grasp Logan's. She felt him shift, let her take hold, and then both closed their eyes tightly.

Several minutes later, she opened her eyes and looked over at Logan. He looked calm, at peace, quiet, and it made her wonder how improper it would be to initiate a makeout session in the midst of a church service. Logan opened his eyes to find Veronica staring at him and she saw his eyes darken slightly as he seemed to ask himself the same question. In response she squeezed his hand clasped in hers and looked up at the ceiling.

They left the cathedral in silence and didn't talk until they had both fastened their seat belts and had pulled out of the parking lot. Veronica wasn't sure if Logan got why they had come, and she wanted him to know without having to explain.

"So much of my life is chaos, you know?" She was looking out the window but she could feel his eyes on her.

"Yeah, I know."

When they got back to her apartment, they both changed into their pajamas and sat on the couch drinking hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps. Logan talked about Sarah, and gave Veronica, what she suspected was, a modified version of how things went wrong.

He talked about Jenna and how, despite his misgivings, she and Trina had gotten along quite well. He gulped down a large drink and admitted he had asked her if she wanted to find a place together, but she said she wasn't ready. The summer between their junior and senior year they broke up when Jenna told him she had cheated on him. Despite her pleas that she was sorry, that it was a onetime thing, and would never happen again, he refused to try to fix it. He just couldn't.

Veronica put her mug down on the coffee table. "I need you to know that I never…"

"Me neither."

After his blatant honesty, Veronica figured she owed him the story of Jared. A five month relationship that she knew was close to ending when she declined his invitation to spend Christmas of their junior year at his parent's house in Redding. The final nail in the coffin had been her response when he said, "I love you."

Logan fought hard to avoid a spit take when she told him that she had high fived Jared and said, "Cool bro."

"What possessed you to respond that way?"

She shook her head and slapped a hand to her forehead. "I don't know. I just didn't think we were there. I mean, he didn't really seem to like me all that much most days. I kind of thought it was just casual."

"Veronica Mars, were you using him for sex?" She chose to take Logan's amusement at the situation as a sign of his maturity, and not as a sign he didn't care about her.

She put her thumb and index finger up with a half inch of space between them, and then widened the gap so it was closer to four inches. "Just a little. Why do dudes have to make everything so complicated?"

Logan laughed heartily and uncapped the schnapps to add a splash more to his and Veronica's mugs.

She cleared her throat. "Jared was the only one who I...you know...since you." He looked down, focusing on putting the cap back on the battle. "And there hasn't been anyone since." He nodded he understood, and quickly took another drink of his hot chocolate, which did little to hide the smile on his face.

By 2:00 AM they had both shared enough to know that neither was currently seeing anyone, neither had a fuck buddy on retainer, and neither were on the rebound from a serious or semi-serious relationship. When they each checked off the final box on their mental checklists, they washed their mugs out and went to their separate rooms to go to sleep.

The smell of blueberry pancakes and coffee was what Veronica awoke to the next morning. By the time she padded out to the kitchen, Logan had set the table and there was a cup of coffee waiting for her on the counter. She almost walked up behind him and hugged him around the waist, but then reminded herself that the two of them were just friends. She continued to repeat the words as she sat at the table.

_Friends. Just friends. We're just friends._

Still, when she took the first sip of coffee she couldn't help the 'mmmm' that escaped her lips and she blamed the smile he gave her in response for asking him, "Can I keep you?"

He smiled again and then it faded just slightly. "Nah. I'm perishable goods. Don't keep well." He intended the comment to be lighthearted, but Veronica could hear the insecurity behind it.

"Don't do that." She was ready for this conversation. It was time to get it all out on the table, but Logan didn't seem to think so.

"Breakfast is ready," he said.

The ease from the previous evening was momentarily suspended, but at the first bite of the pancakes, Veronica let out another 'mmmm' and Logan laughed at the accompanying groan.

"Should I leave you guys alone?"

"If you do, there won't be any left for you."

Over breakfast, Logan updated her on how Dick and Trina were doing. Dick had declared himself a Communications Major as soon as he realized that it was the major with the best ratio of women to men. He was currently working on his final project for his capstone class; a webisode surfing and adventures series Mac was helping him produce called "Dick's Big Ride."

Trina had made the decision to step out of the limelight for a while and was now attending the Tisch School of the Arts at NYU to get more advanced training. Apparently she had always preferred stage acting to film, but Aaron had seen the stage as a waste of time so she never pursued it. Logan called Charlie twice a year, but he never got a return call.

Veronica updated Logan on Keith, on the small group of friends she made in LA (Alison, Taylor the boy, Taylor the girl, and Caitlin), and told him the full story of the case that had gone bad and encouraged her change of career path. When she finished telling him the story, he was frowning at her.

She thought he was going to give her a belated lecture about being reckless, but apparently her story had raised more questions than it had answered. "But you still have your PI license?"

"Yeah, but I'm not using it really. I'm not ready yet." He shook his head and wiped one hand over his face. "What? What'd I say?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason you left Neptune."

Veronica threw her fork on the plate. "That is the real reason."

"Oh, I believe it's part of the reason, but there's more to the story than you're telling."

"What makes you say that?" She crossed her arms, a defensive posture that mimicked Logan's.

"Veronica, really bad things have happened to you, to both of us; immensely bad things." He didn't need to say the specific names for her to conjure up the memories. Lianne, Beaver, Aaron, Mercer. "But no matter how terrible they got, you never gave up. You always fought. You expect me to believe one little car crash was enough to scare you off?"

"I'm not asking you to believe anything. It's the truth."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Sure it is."

"Fine, Logan. Since we're being so open and honest, mind telling me about the four days you spent in the hospital sophomore year as a result of Gory jumping you in a parking lot?"

His eyes narrowed and he fixed her with a stare. "How'd you hear about that?"

"I read the newspaper, Logan. You managed to make it so names weren't mentioned, but when I asked Mac and Wallace about it they clammed up and wouldn't say anything. Wasn't hard to figure out."

"Dammit, Veronica. Is this how it's always going to be? Us continuously holding secrets over one another's head to get the other to fess up?" Logan stood up and grabbed their plates and tossed them in the sink. "I'm going to the gym."

She stood up quickly and marched over to the sink. "You're here visiting me but you're going to walk out?"

"Yes, because if I don't this is going to turn into a fight."

"It's already a fight." She took a step closer to him, but he countered and took a step back.

"Well, I'm done with it."

"Fine."

They each stomped off to their respective rooms. Logan changed to go the gym, and Veronica changed into her running clothes. She was putting on her shoes when she heard the door slam behind Logan as he left.

_Damn Logan Echolls._

She got back to her apartment an hour later and Logan hadn't called. She took a shower, got dressed, did the dishes and still he hadn't called. Veronica was sitting at her kitchen table studying when she finally got a text from Logan asking if she was at home. She responded that she was and less than a minute later there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Logan standing there, still in his gym clothes, holding a bag of takeout.

They doled out helpings of the food he had purchased at the Italian deli and sat down in the living room, balancing the plates on their laps. After she took a few bites of her pasta she sat her plate down and looked at him. "You're not going to tell me what happened with you and Gory, are you?"

He shook his head. She sighed, picked her plate up and continued to eat.

"You're not going to tell me the full story of why you left Neptune, are you?"

She shook her head. Logan sighed. "Okay," he said.

"Okay."

They finished the night with ice cream, purposefully avoiding any topics that might start another argument. Veronica woke up just before 4:00 AM and found herself on the couch, half draped over a sleeping Logan, their ice cream bowls still on the coffee table. She covered him up with a blanket before going to her room to sleep for a few more hours.

Veronica woke up the next morning when Logan jumped on her bed and started bouncing at the foot of it. He declared that day to be Logan's choice as he would be planning everything they were doing. First, they got brunch at a café thirty minutes outside of LA, famous for their homemade biscuits. Logan purchased half a dozen and some of their jam for the road. From there they went west to Malibu to spend the afternoon on the beach. Before Veronica could open her mouth to complain, Logan pulled a small bag out of his backseat with her swimsuit, towel, sunscreen, and the book she was reading.

After they got bored with swimming and lounging in the sun, they kayaked near Surfrider Beach and enjoyed the view of the horizon and the dozens of surfers still out. Veronica insisted that Logan join them since they were there, and after only a few minutes of pretending that he didn't want to, gleefully rented a board and pulled his wetsuit out from his truck.

Dinner time was spent out on a dock, eating fish tacos, and drinking sangria. They returned to Veronica's exhausted, but still neither wanted to go to bed, each aware that Logan was leaving in less than 48 hours. The countdown clock had started.

Veronica promised she could stay awake for a movie but, just as she had earlier in his stay, fell asleep twenty minutes in. Again, she woke up as she felt Logan pick her up and move her into her bedroom, but this time when he moved to lay her down in the center of her bed, she kept her arms wound tightly around his neck.

"Veronica, let go. I need to go to my room."

"No." She smiled and pulled him towards her by the hold she had around his neck and kissed him softly. Their lips stayed pressed together moving an infinitesimal amount, as if they were in a 1940's movie, before Logan returned the kiss and they both opened their mouths just slightly.

He felt a laugh begin to form in the back of his throat and he couldn't stop it from escaping. Veronica frowned against his lips and pushed him back a few inches to look at his face. "What's so funny?"

"You have morning breath."

She shook her head at him but was smiling. "Oh, shut up."

He smiled back, a little too self-satisfied, and kissed her again.

The next morning Veronica woke up first to find her and Logan each lying on their sides so they were facing one another. His left arm was on her hip and her right arm was resting lightly on his bare chest. She left it there for a few seconds, feeling the beating of his heart, and then moved to brush a piece of hair off his forehead. His lips tugged up into a small smile at the feel of her fingertips but he didn't wake up.

She put her hand back on his chest. "Now what?" she whispered. The room was silent and the answer came to her after she watched him sleep for another minute.

_Breakfast._

She gently removed Logan's hand from her hip, tucked the sheet around his waist, and slipped on her UCLA sweatpants and sweatshirt. Given the fact that they hadn't fallen asleep until well after 3:30 AM, she didn't think Logan would be waking up any time soon, but she wrote him a note and left it for him on the counter.

When she got back to the apartment, it was as she suspected; Logan was still fast asleep. She took the pastries out of the bag, cut each of them in half and arranged them on a plate then balanced both coffee cups she had gotten in one hand. Quietly, she placed the coffees on her nightstand, the plate on her bed, and shucked off her sweats to crawl back into bed. Logan was still turned on his side and stirred slightly as she sat down. Veronica leaned over and kissed him lightly on his temple, then his ear, his cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally his mouth. She felt Logan smile and pulled back to see him open his eyes.

He grabbed both of her hands and held them to his chest and she lay down so they were again face to face. "Good morning," he mumbled, still sleepy.

"Morning. I got us breakfast."

She sat up and handed him one of the cups of coffee. He sat up next to her, took the cup she handed, and drank a long sip. He put the coffee cup on the table near his side of the bed and frowned at her.

"What's wrong? Did I not get the coffee right?"

"You're dressed." He crossed his arms across his chest, and pouted. Veronica rolled her eyes, and flipped the blanket back.

"I'm pantless, just like you. But I had to put on a sweatshirt to go get breakfast." He leaned forward to grab the plate of pastries and placed it in his lap.

"Well, you're back now, so what's your excuse?"

While she could have easily responded with a snarky rejoinder, she just shrugged her shoulders and tugged the sweatshirt off, leaving her in her bra and underwear. He moved to kiss her again, but she put a hand to his chest and pushed him back. "Breakfast first."

He growled at her in mild annoyance, and without removing his eyes from her face, reached down and picked up a pastry, taking a large bite. In between bites, he managed to get out, "Happy now?"

Veronica had gotten four different pastries from the bakery, and convinced Logan to focus long enough on breakfast to eat one half of each of them. She took a long drink of her coffee and protested when Logan grabbed the cup out of her hand and sat it down on the nightstand.

"Hey, I wasn't finished with that." He moved over her and she lay back down so his face was hovering right above her own. "What are you doing?"

He placed kisses on her right shoulder and then all along her collarbone to her left shoulder. "We each just ate about 900 calories. We need to work some of that off."

She sighed as if she was much put upon. "If we must."

"We must."

The rest of the day passed more quickly than either of them wanted. Logan made a motion to spend the rest of the day in bed, but it didn't get a second, so they spent the morning in bed and then showered separately, despite Logan's protests. They stopped at Bristol Farms to pick up food for lunch, and then went to wander and lounge at Griffith Park.

Veronica had never understood the appeal of feeding another person, but she quickly reassessed that opinion when Logan took it upon himself to lick frosting off her finger from the cupcake she was enjoying. Her eyes rolled back in her head and without a word on the subject, she started packing up their food.

In a tone that belied his casualness, Logan asked, "Are we leaving?"

She shot him a glare. "If you want to see me naked again you'll wipe that smirk off your face and help me pack up."

"Yes dear."

They left the park holding hands and the rest of the night they constantly had some part of their bodies touching the other's. Logan's hand on her waist as she put the spaghetti noodles in boiling water for dinner. Veronica's legs draped over his lap as they ate. Logan's fingers drawing patterns on Veronica's back as they lay in bed together. Veronica's hand on Logan's chest as they slept.

The next morning the roles had reversed from the previous day, with Logan trying to get out of bed and Veronica stopping him at every turn. Admittedly he wasn't putting up much of a fight. His 9:00 departure time got pushed to 9:30, then 10:00, then 10:30, and finally 11:00 AM. Veronica walked with Logan out to his car, her hand tucked possessively in his back pocket, and his arm around her shoulder. When they got to his car she tried to hide that her eyes had glassed over slightly with held in tears.

He put his bag and Veronica's photo of the football player in the car and then turned her towards him, wrapping her up in a tight hug.

She pulled back slightly and looked at him. "You really have to go?"

"The interview is pretty much a formality, but I need to get home and get changed. Still want to make a good impression."

Veronica groaned and buried her face in Logan's chest. "God, responsible Logan is really sexy."

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "You know," he mumbled into her hair, "we never talked about this. What happens now?"

She turned her face up to look at him and kissed him once more. "We'll figure it out."

He nodded, kissed her on the forehead, and got into the car. Veronica stayed on the curb, turned towards the direction his car had gone, long after he had driven out of sight.

"We'll figure it out." This time she whispered the words into the air as if they were a wish.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

But they hadn't figured it out. If anything, things had gotten more confused between the two of them, and their individual histories more complicated; Veronica with Skyler and her stalker, and Logan with his mystery and his exes from the past eighteen months. From getting Wallace liquored up she knew there was at least a Rachel, a Dana, and a Jessica. Not to mention the issue with the unreturned letter.

She didn't know where the two of them were going, or where this tenuous reconciliation would lead, but she focused on her current pragmatic task of making her way to Logan's house. The turns and twists into the 09er zip code were done by muscle memory and in little time she arrived at the new Echolls estate.

There were noticeable differences since her last visit, most notably the lack of paparazzi and gawkers hanging around the gate. The gate itself had been replaced, now a solid barrier made of dark stained cedar that was both beautiful and functional, as it prevented photos from being taken from street level. She hesitated at the box, uncertain if she should try the entrance code that Logan had once upon a time created for her. It seemed like a Logan thing to do; program in her code, even after all their time apart. After another second, she opted to push the call button to alert the housekeeper.

Veronica was surprised when it was Logan's voice she heard. "Hello?"

"Hey. It's me." She grimaced. Maybe he didn't recognize her voice anymore? "I mean, it's me, Veronica."

She heard Logan laugh. "I know. I can see you on camera." Veronica looked up, and sure enough, there was a camera perched at the top of the gate and pointed at her car.

She looked directly at the camera. "So, you going to let me in?"

"It depends. What are you going to give me?"

She thought about mentioning the lemon cake she had stopped at Larson's Bakery to pick up on her way, but settled for flipping him off.

"Why that's the best offer I've gotten all day." Veronica quickly put her hand down, realizing exactly what it seemed like she was offering.

Logan noticed, of course he did. She could hear him laugh, but he took pity on her and buzzed her through the gate. His Lexus and a hunter green Kia SUV were in the driveway. The Kia looked a little beat up, but was still in relatively good condition, and she guessed, belonged to Heather herself.

By the time Veronica got out of the car and grabbed the cake, Logan was waiting for her with the door wide open. He saw the cake box and his eyes lit up. "Honey, you baked."

"No, the bakery baked." She handed him the box and stepped into the entryway, not quite certain what to do with her bag, or her hands, or the recognizable desire to flee a situation in which she felt out of control. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw Logan move to put an arm around her shoulder, but when she looked at him directly, he was standing with the cake in one hand, and the other in the pocket of his khaki shorts.

Logan took a couple steps past her to move them out of the foyer. "I'll go put this down, and then I think I owe you a VIP tour."

She had many ways she wanted to respond to that:

_How many other blondes have received the VIP tour? Brunettes? Red heads?  
__How many VIP tours end with the bedroom?  
__Does VIP stand for Very Irrelevant Person?_

For once she choked the snark down. She solved the problem of where to put her bag by placing it on a chair in the entry way, and solved the problem of what to do with her hands by putting them in the pockets of her dress. Logan solved the problem of her leaving by coming back into the foyer before she could move.

"We'll start upstairs and work our way down. But, I've been told we have to be quick about it. Heather apparently has a lot to tell you."

"Oh captain, my captain."

_It's just a tour. Not like we can fuck this up any more than we have already._

Logan moved in the direction of the staircase and Veronica looked fleetingly at the front door, and then chose to follow him up the stairs.

* * *

**A/N 3: **A million thanks (cliché!) to my beta Scandalpants. If I had an actual photo of Logan on his surfboard at sunset I'd happily give it to you.

**A/N 4: **I'd love your feedback! Comments, questions, critiques. Which of the spring break dates did you like most and why? They were all chosen for a reason.


	9. Chapter 9: It Takes Two to Closure

**A/N 1: **This chapter was my Everest. Until the next chapter, which will undoubtedly be my new Everest. Then this chapter will be my K2. Read, and I hope, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9: It Takes Two to Closure**

* * *

Every square inch of Logan's house was somehow both overwhelming and comfortable. It probably had something to do with the height of the ceilings and the amount of light in the house. Despite the fact the sun had long since set when Veronica arrived, she kept being tricked into thinking each room was lit by bright sunlight.

She allowed her hand to slowly drift up the bannister and relished the thought that, even if she were to never step foot in Logan's house again, her fingerprints would still be impressed on the staircase. A trace of her, albeit a small one, would remain.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Veronica leaned up against the wall and took off her shoes, tossing them aside to be picked up later. Logan turned to see what she was doing and raised an eyebrow. "You can keep your shoes on."

She smiled and wriggled her toes. "I wanted to feel the carpet." Placing her weight primarily on her left foot, she traced a small pattern in the carpet with her right foot. "It's plush. I approve."

"Well that's a relief. Lord knows if you didn't I'd have it ripped up tomorrow."

Veronica stood firmly on her two feet. "You really take hospitality to a whole new level, Echolls."

She walked down the hallway, which was wide enough to leave a good six inches of space at either end of her fingertips if she stood in the middle with her arms extended, and reached the secondary staircase. He had designed the house so there was a staircase in the entranceway that led to the top floor and another staircase that could be accessed from the entrance by the garage that also led upstairs.

She held the bannister, peered below, then turned around so she was leaning on the railing and gestured to the walls. "So, if I were to say I thought the walls would look better green?"

Logan snapped his fingers. "Tomorrow, liquid avocado would be slathered from floor to ceiling."

"And if I thought this hallway could really use a trapeze."

"I'd applaud you for reaching new levels of kink and contact my trapeze guy."

Veronica laughed and placed a hand on her cheek shaking her head. "Only you would have a trapeze guy." She turned around again and leaned over the railing. "Your contractor bills must be astronomical if you renovate at the whim of every guest."

She expected an immediate response from Logan, and when she got none she looked at him, concerned she had said something wrong. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at his feet.

"Yeah, well, some guests are more important than others."

_And we're back to the Logan Echolls M.O._ _From joking to sincere in five seconds flat. How does he do that? _

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then immediately regretted it, knowing that Logan would recognize it as a sign of being nervous. She didn't want him to notice how much she wanted – and needed – to still be important to him.

Logan cleared his throat, and looked at his watch. "Come on, we're on a schedule. I'm supposed to have you poolside in exactly thirty minutes."

The first rooms she saw were the two guest rooms closest to the secondary staircase. One was painted a light blue color and held a queen sized bed with white four-poster bedframe. A white end table was on either side of the bed, and a white dresser was against one wall. The room was relatively small, and decorated simply. The only décor was a lamp on each end table, a couple potted plants in the window sill, and black and white framed photos on the dresser.

The other was painted a warm yellow and had white crown molding around the perimeter of the room. All of the furniture was light natural pine, and there were two red armchairs near a fireplace that Veronica was considering trying to hide under her dress to take home with her. All along the fireplace mantle were photos of Lynn and Logan and a few of Lynn with friends. A series of three 16' x 20' black and white framed photos on one wall were the only other decoration.

She touched a hand to the wall and glanced at Logan. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when she deliberately noticed the paint color.

"For your mom?" she asked.

Logan nodded, clearly moved by the fact she had remembered.

As she walked around the perimeter of the room, she'd occasionally touch her finger to a windowsill or a piece of furniture, leaving additional traces of her presence. Stopping at the photos on the wall, she let out a small gasp and felt her heart rate speed up. "Who took these?"

He ran a hand through his hair, and walked to stand beside her. "I did." She could hear the trepidation in his voice. To stop herself from reaching out to take his hand, she placed both of hers in the pockets of her dress.

"It was another one of Thomas' assignments." He pointed to the first photo. "Dog Beach. Home to some of my lowest lows, and highest highs. The highs make it worth remembering." He pointed to the second photo. "Kerry State Park. The one and only time I tried camping."

"I told my dad you weren't an outdoorsy kind of guy. Guess he needed to see it to believe it."

Veronica looked at him and smiled, feeling a few goose bumps rise, she hoped imperceptibly, on her arms.

_You have two objectives here, Veronica. Friendship, and closure. Stick to the plan._

He pointed to the final photo of the quad at Hearst and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "If those trees could talk, am I right?" She felt more than saw his smug smile, and the warm burn of memories joined the goose bumps on her skin.

Memories of study sessions that turned into competitions to see who could tease the other into a state of sexual frustration first. Memories of her one and only foray into a semi-public rounding of second base.

_Some of our best memories relegated to a psychological exercise in Logan's guest room. Maybe that's all they are now; monsters he needs to face before he moves on. His form of closure._

Backing away from his close proximity, Veronica put a hand out to clutch the dresser, seemingly to appreciate the craftsmanship, but really to steady herself. This was all a mistake. The conversation she needed to have with Logan should not have happened whilst in his house, being assaulted by memories. She sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace and waved a hand around the room.

"This is all for your mom, isn't it?"

Logan sat down in the other armchair and scooted to the edge so they were close enough for their knees to touch. He didn't answer immediately but, rather took a moment to scrutinize her expression.

She swore she used to be better at hiding what she was really thinking and feeling from him. Now it took everything she had to not look away and in so doing betray that his presence was affecting her.

He took a deep breath and then started to roll the hem of his shorts between his fingers. Veronica wasn't certain if Logan was purposefully grazing her knee with his fingers as he fidgeted, but she knew if he was made aware of the charge that was shooting up her spine each time he did, he wouldn't stop.

She didn't know if she wanted him to.

"Some days I hate her," he said. "Other days I love her. Every day I miss her." He turned his face up to look at the photos on the mantle and attempted to discretely wipe something from the corner of his eye.

"Some of her friends from our LA days sent the pictures. It's nice to have something of her in the house."

Not sure if she was overstepping, but knowing she wanted to offer some sort of comfort, she leaned forward and placed a hand on Logan's knee. If Logan's accidental touches sent small charges, her purposeful action was a full on jolt. She wondered if Logan's creased brow and the way he started tapping his foot was a sign he felt the same thing.

"Some days I hate my mom too," she said, rubbing her thumb back and forth on his kneecap. She stopped as soon as she realized what she was doing.

He turned his eyes downward and placed a hand on Veronica's knee, mirroring her own gesture. "And other days?"

"I love her." Logan's thumb moved move back and forth, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "But every day, I'm mad at her."

Logan cocked his head to the side, his eyes turned away from her face.

Dammit. She'd said the wrong thing. Here he was admitting to missing his mom, something he could never bring himself to openly admit while they were dating, and all she did was demonstrate she was still angry.

"Veronica, we're different people. We don't have to feel the same." He knew. Somehow he always knew.

His posture shifted, and Veronica thought he was about to stand up, but instead of giving up contact he began tracing the lines of her kneecap, occasionally moving his index finger an inch higher on her knee.

"What about me?" he asked. "Do you miss me every day, or are you mad at me every day?"

She couldn't think. Not when he was touching her like that. And not when the order of their knees and bare feet were alternated in the way they were. Her leg. His leg. Her leg. His leg. They were too tangled up, and her thoughts were getting fuzzy. He always made her thoughts fuzzy.

She scooted back a few inches in the chair, dislodging his hand so it fell to the side of her leg. "Depends on the minute, I guess."

He looked up at her, and she couldn't read his expression. Annoyance? Frustration? He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "Veronica, we should talk."

_He stole my line._

Being confronted by a Logan who clearly had things he wanted to say was unexpected. Though she had come here with the intention of having this conversation, it wasn't supposed to happen in the midst of an emotionally charged moment. She had planned for it to be calm and rational, like an exercise in grade school manners: his turn, her turn. And his hand was not supposed to be anywhere near her knee.

She stood up quickly and moved towards the door. "Let's walk and talk. Don't want to make Heather mad, do we?"

Now his expression was clear. Disappointment. She just needed a little more time and a lot more distance.

She walked out of the room and poked her head into the guest bathroom, almost floor to ceiling white, with the exception of the granite tiles in the stand-up shower, and then moved down the hallway to what she presumed was Logan's bedroom. It was dangerous territory. She understood that keenly, so she held back and let Logan take the lead. His jovial mood when she had first arrived was gone, and there was no trace of the emotional intensity from the guest bedroom. Now he was somewhat detached as he pushed his bedroom door open and waved her in with one arm.

_Come on, Logan. I'm still here with you._

She wasn't perfect. She still didn't relish in having hard conversations, but despite leaving the bedroom, she wasn't running away. Standing in front of him, she ducked her head to meet his eyes.

"Don't give me the silent treatment," she said. "Be mad at me if you want, but don't do that."

He took a deep breath and then exhaled. Through almost gritted teeth, he softly said, "I am mad at you."

She slapped his chest in an attempt to bring lightheartedness back to the moment. Ah, crap. There was that charge again. Maybe Logan's house had a higher concentration of static electricity? "Well, of course you are. I used to be a PI, you know. I have astute powers of observation."

He smiled a little, and it caused the tension in her chest to recede. "Yeah, I think I heard something about that."

Backing up a few feet so she was almost in the center of the room she gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. When the kids leave, we'll have plenty of time to share with one another why we're mad."

He raised his eyebrows and put his hands behind his head, staring her down. "You're mad too? What did I do?"

"Guess you're going to find out later," she sing songed, and then turned around to face the floor to ceiling windows that she guessed in the daytime would give a sweeping view of the California hills. "Well, your view sucks."

She expected him to stand beside her, but instead he moved behind her so that while he was seriously invading her personal bubble, he didn't actually touch her. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from shuddering. "Not real. It's a green screen."

_Mad at me. But not so mad to keep himself out of easy groping distance. Interesting. _

"Hmm. What else in the room is an illusion?" She walked to the tall venge stained dresser, ignoring the way her body instantly cooled down by stepping away from him, and knocked twice on the wood. "Particle board?" She moved over to the matching headboard and knocked again. "No, wait. It's definitely plywood."

Running a hand over the white duvet cover with diamond-slashed openings that revealed contrast blue, she could tell it was incredibly high thread count cotton, but frowned anyway. "Polyester, Logan? You know, occasionally it's okay to splurge a little bit. Buy yourself something nice."

"You're an elitist, Veronica Mars." She closed her eyes in relief that he joked back. When she opened them, she found Logan had moved to the opposite side of the bed and was standing across from her.

They were in his bedroom, she was touching his bed where he slept every night, he was staring at her, and the thought came unbidden as to what the sheets would feel like on her skin. It all felt too intimate.

"So, what do you think?" He was standing a full six feet away, the width of his king size bed between them, but when his voice got low like that, it was as if he was speaking directly into her ear.

"I like it. A lot, actually." She touched each design element as she gave her feedback. Duvet. "This looks cozy." Headboard. "The dark wood makes it you." The wall color. "And the grey was a good choice."

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the framed photos on the dresser, the window seat with an end table stacked high with books, and then they rested on a large framed photo she hadn't noticed. It was bright, dynamic, and something that while she wouldn't expect to see in Logan's room, wasn't entirely out-of-place.

She liked that he was allowing color back into his life. Wallace had joked once in undergrad that he only ever saw Logan wearing colors that could be found on a tree. But today, Logan was wearing blue, and the picture on the wall didn't contain a single shade of brown.

She moved to take a closer look. Glancing over her shoulder at Logan, she flushed when she was met with his resolute stare.

She placed one hand over her heart, found that despite its rapid pace it seemed to be functioning, and pointed to the photo. "This is LA?" He nodded. "Was it taken through the lens of a kaleidoscope?" He nodded again, and she smiled and shook her head.

_Mac wouldn't have said anything, right? The 'no mention of Logan Echolls' rule has been firmly in effect for the past two years._

"I found it when I was there last year. I guess he's an up and coming artist, or something. I just liked how he took something I've seen a million times, but somehow made it different." Veronica smiled at him again. "Why do you keep smiling? It's a little creepy."

_He reads me better than almost anyone, and he doesn't even realize he's doing it._

She shrugged and looked back at the photo. "Mac and I had a conversation about kaleidoscopes a couple of years ago."

His fingertips brushed hers as he came to stand next to her. "You two talked about kaleidoscopes? How esoteric of you."

She looked down at his hand which had just brushed hers, and saw he was drumming his fingers against his thigh in a constant pattern. When they dated before senior year of high school, she used to get him to stop fidgeting by placing kisses on his knuckles. He had always assumed the gesture drove her crazy, but really she just liked having an excuse to touch her lips to his skin.

She moved closer to the photo to see the way the familiar skyline was colored, and flipped, and rearranged to look entirely different. It was LA, but it was sharper. More vibrant. And she knew the actual LA skyline was forever ruined for her.

* * *

**FLASHBACK**

"_Is he dating anyone right now?" Veronica asked, cradling the phone between her chin and shoulder._

_Mac groaned at the other end of the line. "You know he is. That Jenna girl."_

"_Oh. That's still a thing?" _

"_Remember when you used to pretend to not have feelings? Any way we could go back to that?"_

"_Not tonight. I had two rum and Cokes, and I'm feeling chatty." _

_Mac groaned again. "This is god's way of punishing me for befriending Logan. I knew it was a bad idea." _

_Veronica laughed and kicked her feet up in the air, letting them bob back and forth as she lay on her stomach. "Yeah, well, he's pretty hard to resist." _

"_Okay, so this may sound like a dumb question…"_

"_Probably because it is, but ask it anyway."_

"_Why do you think that is? About Logan being hard to resist, I mean. Obviously he's got the whole tall dark and handsome millionaire thing going for him, but there's got to be more to it than that." _

_Veronica sighed, rolled over onto her back, and then rested her feet flat on her bedroom wall. "It's the Logan Echolls effect."_

"_He's so charismatic there's a name for it?"_

"_Well, it hasn't been trademarked or anything, but it might as well be." Mac snorted, and Veronica continued to explain. "Logan's always been like that. Even when we were kids and we were just riding bikes and swimming every day, everything felt more real around Logan. Lily, too, I guess. They were the same that way. The air around them seemed to almost hum with their energy." Veronica let out a dreamy sigh as she remembered. _

_Mac giggled loudly. "Oh god, you're drunk."_

"_Seriously, Mac, you have to have noticed this." She slowly walked her feet up and down the wall, feeling the cool paint under her toes. "Being with Logan is like looking at the world through a kaleidoscope. It's twistered and turned every which way, but it's color, and life, and it just radiates off of him." _

_She heard Mac sigh, and suddenly she was embarrassed. Drunk dialing Mac so they could girl talk was clearly a mistake. She hoped Mac would just let her drunk ramblings lie. _

"_So, what's the view like in LA without the Echolls effect?"_

_Veronica stared at the wall, and slid her feet down so they fell on the mattress with a light thump. In a voice so soft she almost didn't recognize it as her own, she responded, "It's grey. Grey as far as the eye can see." _

**END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

"This is perfect," she said, gesturing at the photo again. "It suits you."

Logan smiled and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. He made a move to grab her hand, but then pulled back and ran his hand through his hair.

That, more than anything, was what proved to Veronica that things were radically different between the two of them. It wasn't the lack of sex, or the geographical distance between Neptune and Chicago, but the way it was no longer okay for them to touch, even casually. Logan clearly saw the guest bedroom knee massage as a fluke. She ignored the voice that sounded a lot like Mac's, telling her she was being an idiot, and swallowed down her dissatisfaction at her and Logan's new arrangement.

She was clear on the rules now. Touch to comfort a friend was okay. Touch just because it felt good was not.

He gestured to his bedroom door with a nod of his head. "We're on a deadline. We'll have to take another tour later if you want to see the master bathroom. I have a Jacuzzi." He waggled his eyebrows, she imagined, only because it was expected of him. She bit back on a laugh and rolled her eyes.

"Of course you do."

Logan sped them through the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen, pointing out his favorite features of each. He promised to show her the downstairs media and game room after dinner.

She knew the house had probably cost a large sum of money to build, but nothing about his home felt ostentatious. From what Veronica could tell, Logan Echolls was wasting an opportunity to turn his home into a shrine dedicated to his own brilliance. And she loved it.

The final room on the main floor was Logan's office. Between the Kane estate and the original Echolls home, she had previously seen two different offices belonging to millionaire men. The only resemblance those offices held to Logan's was the presence of a desk and books.

Logan's was decorated with a peculiar combination of oranges, greens and blues, that somehow all worked together to make it one of the most comfortable rooms in the house. The tall bookcases were overflowing with Logan's impressive collection, and she expected he had read every one of them.

And, holy shit, there were knick knacks. Large colorful vases holding sticks and twigs, and picture frames decorated several of the shelves of the bookcases.

"This room looks like it was on the receiving end of a woman's touch." She was aware her observation came out sounding like a criticism.

"Two women. Melinda and Heather."

"Ah." The fact that his relationships with those two women were completely platonic only made Veronica feel marginally better. They were still two people who had more access to him than she did.

She picked up and smelled a candle she saw on one of the bookshelves, smiled, then put it back down.

_Lemon verbena. So, that wasn't a sexy time candle he purchased at the drug store after all. Unless Logan does 'sexy time' in his office. Okay, now you're imagining sexy time with Logan in his office._

She continued to wander around the room, picking up various items, examining them, and then putting them down. She knew Logan was lingering in the doorway, inspecting her like she was inspecting his possessions, but she took her time.

Unlike her absentminded wandering in the guest rooms, she was now purposeful in her actions. This was the room in Logan's house that she imagined he spent most of his waking hours, and she wanted to commit it all to memory.

When she turned around to compliment Logan on the space, her eye caught a familiar picture on the wall closest to the door. It was the photo he had purchased more than two years prior during his visit to LA.

If she hadn't been standing where she was in front of whom she was, she would have let herself cry at the sight of her artwork on his wall. She didn't know if it was out of joy, confusion, or anger at the mixed signals he was throwing at her.

He noticed her perusal, and shifted in the doorway so he moved a little closer to the photo. "Melinda went crazy over this when she saw it. I refused to give it to her, so she demanded I hang it up, or she was taking it."

She swallowed a lump that had developed in her throat and ran her finger along the top of picture frame.

She remembered everything she had felt when she first took the photo, and then again when she had it printed. It had caused a series of memories to surface. A couple with Duncan the first time they dated, one with Piz when she thought he was what she needed, and dozens with Logan. Memories of utter contentment while with one's partner. Despite appearances, the couple kissing wasn't showing off, or being gratuitously demonstrative of their affection for the other. They just wanted to kiss, and it didn't occur to them to pretend otherwise.

The presence of this photo, which spoke more to her about peace than passion, framed and hanging on her ex-boyfriend's wall, was causing her to feel unhinged. The irony was not lost on her.

"Melinda sounds like a real ballbuster."

"That's because she is." Logan ran his hand up and down the wood of the door frame, occasionally shooting looks at Veronica from under his eyelashes. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, but didn't acknowledge the attention.

"And it's not awkward between her and Dick?"

"No more awkward than it is when you and I interact." She didn't know how to take that comment. The Logan Echolls snark cocktail was always a mixture of cutting and cute, and she didn't know what the intended blend of that remark was.

He was fighting to keep a straight face, his eyes kept darting to hers to see how she'd respond, and he was running his fingers up and down the doorframe. She let her body relax: 70% cute, 30% cutting.

"So, it's incredibly awkward then," she said.

"Pretty much." Logan stood up straight in the doorway. "I'm hosting FFC this year, if you want to meet her."

Her focus had been on the photo, but his invitation to an event she had never heard of before brought her attention back to him. "Am I supposed to know what FFC is?"

"Forgot you haven't been around for that little holiday tradition. It's our 'Fucked-Up Family Christmas' celebration." Logan spread his hands out in the air as if the words were written on a marquee in the sky. "Melinda hosted two years ago, Dick hosted last year. I'm hosting this year."

"You made that a tradition?" She crossed her arms and faced him, but her eyes kept darting to the photo on the wall.

Logan shrugged, and leaned against the doorframe, crossing one foot in front of the other. "We figured we all got screwed in the family lottery. Pretending around the holidays makes it a whole hell of a lot more depressing than it does to just acknowledge it and move on."

Veronica was again confronted by a piece of evidence that Logan Echolls had grown up. No one would have blamed him for using the holidays to wallow, but he was intentionally choosing to celebrate instead.

"Who's coming?"

He ticked off each member of the guest list on his fingers. "This year it's me, Dick, Melinda, Heather, Casey and his fiancé. Mac said she might make an appearance, and the DP from Dick's series is probably coming, too. Don't know what the story is with him, but Dick says it's a doozy."

She hated this. She hated that he had Christmas traditions with acronyms that she wasn't a part of. It was to the point where she didn't know who to blame anymore. Was it his fault or her fault they were no longer clued into the details of one another's lives? When she remembered the unanswered letter, her skin got hot with frustration.

Definitely his fault.

One of the spaghetti straps of her dress had apparently slid down her shoulder during the tour, but she hadn't realized it until that instant. She pulled it back up, and then adjusted the halter straps of her bathing suit, distractedly running her fingers over her skin as she counted to ten and talked herself out of swearing at Logan Echolls. She looked up from adjusting the bodice of her dress and noticed Logan watching her. His eyes had gone dark, and she had a moment of inner triumph that she could still get him to look at her like that.

It was short-lived, however. "I think we have family stuff with the Fennel's planned on both Christmas Eve and Christmas."

Logan shook his head in mock disappointment. "Your family is getting awfully close to the middle class dream. I'm not even sure you'd qualify for FFC this year."

"I think I can muster up enough abandonment issues to qualify me." Veronica reached up to pull her pigtails tight and turned to continue her inspection of the room.

Logan cleared his throat to bring her attention back to him. "I have to go grill the burgers, but I'll be back in 15 minutes. Think that'll give you enough time?"

"Enough time for what?" She picked up a photo from his desk of him and a couple of guys she didn't recognize with surfboards.

"To finish poking around my office. I saw you eyeing my desk drawers. Don't you want to take a peek?" He raised one eyebrow and failed to keep the smirk from his lips. She fumbled as she put the picture frame down, and cursed herself for letting his words surprise her.

_He thinks he's so damn smooth._

She had no idea what he was trying to accomplish. "What makes you think I have any plans to do that?" She moved to face him and mirrored his body language, but added a popped hip.

"Hey, you put a fish in an aquarium, it's going to swim."

Aside from the whole, 'tracking his car' incident three days prior, she thought she'd been making an effort to do things differently with Logan. She asked outright for him to tell her what was going on with him, apologized without any pretense, and had been honest about the fact she still cared for him.

He didn't care. He still saw her as the damaged 19-year old who had to act unnaturally to get herself to trust people. "I think I should go."

She headed towards the door but Logan stopped her by backing his body up into the doorway. "Shit. Veronica, no, don't leave. I didn't mean that in a bad way."

_Okay, so I thought about it for a second, but not seriously. Only half seriously. _

"There's nothing in here I'm trying to hide from you. I just…I just wanted you to know that." Veronica had every intention of keeping her eyes averted, and then sneaking away when he went out to the patio. But, Logan snapping his fingers in her face and repeating her name made that more difficult.

She questioned the sanity of a man who actually looked relieved when he was fixed with a glare.

"Veronica, I have so many secrets that sometimes I forget which things I'm hiding, and which are things I'm supposed to tell people. I'm not hiding anything." He backed himself up towards the door. "I'll be back in 15 minutes."

The moment he left, Veronica sat down on the bench seat across from his desk. She was going to sit there with her hands in her lap for the 900 seconds it would take for Logan to return. She didn't care what his secrets were. If he wanted to tell her, great, but she wasn't going to snoop it out of him.

She groaned and rolled her eyes at her inner indignation, then stood up; the invitation proving to be just too damned tempting. There was nothing she really wanted to find, but she _was_ Veronica, and this _was_ an unattended office. Plus, Logan expected her to, and she'd hate to be a disappointment.

When she opened the bottom drawer of his desk, things got interesting. Bound together by several rubber bands was a stack of letters, all addressed to Charlie Stone, all unopened and marked 'Return to Sender.' Veronica pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and took a picture of Charlie's address, filing the information away. She returned the letters to the bottom drawer, and made the decision to let Logan know she saw them.

If Logan was laying his secrets bare, she could let him know they had been discovered.

She looked at the time on her phone, and figured she had another 400 seconds before Logan returned to find her. Each of those remaining seconds would be spent sitting on his bench seat like she had originally planned.

She rearranged a few of the pillows and noticed the bench seat had a slight lip that jutted out half an inch at the top. It seemed an unnecessary feature in a house where everything felt purposeful. She lifted up under the edge and found the bench seat was hollow, being used to store photo albums, multiple sets of poker chips, and a few shoe boxes.

Veronica held the lid up a couple extra inches and pulled out the shoe box on top. She closed the lid and sat back down on the seat, curling her feet up underneath her. When she removed the top of the shoe box and looked inside, she felt bile form in her throat, and she instinctively put a hand to her mouth. On top of the stack was a letter with her own neat print facing up.

_Well, at least I know it didn't get lost in the mail._

She picked the letter up and wondered if it was her imagination that caused it to feel so heavy. She felt a wave of embarrassment roll over her when she remembered exactly how many pages she had written and how many admissions she had made. And then white-hot anger that he still had the letter in his possession, and simply didn't care enough to do anything about it.

Under the letter sat every postcard she had sent Logan, in almost perfect reverse order of how they had been sent to him. She quickly flipped through the stack of postcards. The Pablo Neruda quote which at one time seemed tragically romantic now depressed her. Flip. James Dean's smirk mocked her. Flip. Paul Newman was gloating. Flip. The banks of the LA River looked dismal. Flip. What the fuck did William Shakespeare know about love? Flip.

"I shouldn't be surprised you found that, I guess." Logan's voice startled her, but she recovered quickly. He was standing only a few feet away from her, staring intently.

The fact that he could stand in front of her, and look hurt that she had been searching through his stuff, when he had basically told her to do so, made her furious. She felt hot, angry tears, begin to form in her eyes and she wiped them away.

She sat the box beside her and tossed the postcards back on top. The letter remained in her lap. "It was unintentional, actually. Somehow being given permission to snoop took all the fun out of it for me."

"That's talent, Mars. Uncovering secrets even when you're not trying." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and Veronica clenched her teeth. His attempt to look adorable and abashed was unacceptable.

She waved the letter in the air. "Yeah, sometimes it just takes me a while." She stood up and tried to move past him. "You can keep the postcards, but I'm taking my letter."

He almost grabbed her arm, but pulled back at the last second. "No. That's my letter, and I want to keep it."

A bitter broken laugh escaped her, but she tried to remain calm. "Why? So that in ten years' time you and whoever you wind up with can sit down and laugh about your old flames and how hard they fell for you?"

He backed away from her running a hand through his hair. A familiar gesture, but the emotion he had paired with it wasn't. She ignored the pained look in his eye. What right did he have to look so uncomfortable?

"Keep your secrets, Logan. They're none of my business."

Logan ran in front of her, pressing his back up against the door, preventing her from leaving. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, content to wait him out. He was staring her down, and she could see him trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Why finding the words she had written him set her off. He moved an inch closer to her and threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

"Fine, do your thing Mars, run along. But if you get to take your letter back, I want mine back too."

The dig about her past history of running, she expected. His request was a different thing entirely.

"If you're talking about that lame ass postcard you sent quoting the Barney theme song, it's been shredded into a million pieces and is currently biodegrading in a landfill in LA."

This conversation needed to end. Her anger was giving way to hurt, and she needed to leave before he could see that. She took a step towards the door, but Logan didn't move. He was still blocking her escape route.

"Why'd you shred it?"

_That's it. Now I just need him to leave me alone. _

"Maybe because I sent this letter," she waved the letter in his face again, "that catalogued almost every thought and feeling I've had towards you since I was 15 years old, and you sent me the lyrics to the theme song of a fucking children's show!"

Whatever control Logan had maintained fractured, and he took a large step towards her before she could back up. They still weren't touching, but his intensity and her anger held them there, neither willing to move away first.

"I sent you that postcard because I thought I had freaked you out and wanted to take it easy. Let you know I was okay with taking things slow."

"So, I say 'I love you' and you quote Barney." She rolled her eyes to try to disguise the way he was getting to her. If she could keep acting dismissive, he might let her go.

"You're missing a couple steps there, Veronica, and your selective memory is working against you. You said, 'I love you,' I asked you to move in with me, you ignored me for weeks, I sent the purple-fucking-dinosaur to break the ice."

_And now he's reinventing the past. What a bastard._

"I don't know what language you think you're speaking, Logan, but in the English language, in order to communicate you want someone to move in with you, you need to use actual words to get your point across." She side stepped to move around him, but he countered her action so they were still face to face.

"You want to pretend I wasn't clear, that's your choice." He wiped his hands together and held them up to show her they were empty. The gesture was clear. This was Logan washing his hands of their relationship. "Send it to me whole, or send it to me in pieces. I don't care, but if you still have it, I want my letter back."

The level of their voices had risen with each accusation they had lobbed at one another, to the point she was now yelling. "What letter, Logan? You never sent a letter!"

Realization of _something_ seemed to flash in Logan's eyes and she heard him mutter the word 'shit' under his breath. He rubbed a hand across his face and reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. Veronica slapped his hand away and backed up.

"Veronica, I sent a letter." He moved cautiously towards her, and she blamed her knees, which now seemed to be shaking with the effort of holding up her 105 lb frame, for her inability to move away. "I sent a letter," he said, lowering his voice. He kept repeating the words, his voice getting lower each time he spoke. It only took one additional step for him to reach out and pull her to his chest.

His close proximity had snapped her out of whatever trance she had been in and she started struggling against him as he hugged her. "No, you didn't, Logan." She tried unsuccessfully to unpin her arms and hit him. "You didn't, because if you did. Because if you did, then…then, fuck, Logan!" She was no longer fighting, but she wasn't looking him in the eye. "Then where have you been the last two years?"

He repeated one last time what he had already made clear. "Veronica, I sent a letter."

* * *

**A/N 2: **I am not normally a cliffhanger kind of girl, but it was either post now or wait until I get back from vacation in a week. Review and tell me how evil I am!

**A/N 3: **My beta, Scandalpants, deserves to be knighted. I ended up splitting this chapter in two (originally close to 12,000 words!), but between reading this chapter three times all the way through, and various scenes sent intermittently, she has probably read about 30,000 words related to this chapter. Seriously, this chapter COULD NOT have happened without her. Also, I'd like to dedicate all emotional monologuing to ShanghaiLily.

**A/N 4: **I wanted to give this a final read through, but my plane leave in 6 hours...so...PM me if you see glaring errors or typos of the majorly distracting variety.


	10. Chapter 10: This Is Good Too

**A/N 1: **To say I was pleasantly surprised by the response to chapter nine would be the worst of all understatements. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and/or followed as a response. It is amazing to me that you guys are so invested. It thrills me so!

* * *

**Chapter 10: This Is Good Too**

* * *

The two of them sat on the bench seat facing one another, the shoe box that had prompted their outburst between them. They were both looking through the postcards she had sent, occasionally pausing to throw furtive glances at the other.

"I bet you're glad I'm a snoop now, aren't you?"

Logan laughed and held up the first postcard she had sent him after his spring break visit, flipping it around so she could see the Charles Dickens quote. "I didn't know what to do when you first started sending me these. It felt like we were going back to how things were."

Veronica's fingers traced the edges of the postcard she was holding. It was another she had sent him post spring break.

_For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul. – Judy Garland_

She remembered how she struggled to add her own words to the notes she sent after he had visited, often settling for simply signing her name and allowing the quotes to speak for themselves. Sitting across from Logan, she still didn't know what to say, but the words of others had failed her previously so she figured she'd try her own.

"I didn't know what to say, Logan. That trip meant a lot to me and I was afraid of messing it up again."

"But you sent a letter."

_And I didn't sleep for days after I had sent it. _

She paused for a brief second before speaking; intentionally lacing each word she spoke with strength so he couldn't see how much this change of events had unnerved her.

"Yeah, eventually. And apparently you did too." Logan opened his mouth to say, what she didn't know, but she stopped him. "When I didn't hear from you, I guessed that maybe we weren't on the same page. That for once I was the one who wanted more than you were able to give."

The thought that maybe that's how things were now scared her more than sending the original letter had.

_Joanna tried to convince me saying goodbye to Logan was going to be harder than I thought. Even she couldn't have seen this coming. _

"Veronica, when have I ever not wanted what you offered me?"

She shrugged and at the same time pushed a memory aside of the two of them sitting similarly to how they were now. Then, they had been on her father's couch and the conversation ended with Logan being thrown out of the house.

"I expected a response right away, and then days turned into weeks and I still hadn't heard from you. I thought about calling you and asking what was going on, but it screamed of desperation, so I just kept waiting. When I got that stupid Barney postcard, I thought you were making a joke out of the whole thing."

"No wonder you ripped it up." He sighed and rested his head on the wall behind him. His eyes kept searching the room and only settled on her for seconds at a time.

She wanted to demand eye contact by taking hold of his hand but settled for rolling the hem of her dress between her fingers and shooting glances his way when she knew his eyes were averted. A ridiculous push and pull and she didn't know who was responsible.

"Then when I visited Neptune before moving to Chicago -" The admission she was about to make got stuck in her throat and she inwardly rolled her eyes at how small her voice sounded. She swallowed and tried again, looking him straight in the eye. "Wallace told me he had mentioned to you I was coming into town. But I got there, and you had left for Mexico."

Logan groaned. "Which told you I was ignoring you."

"Because you were." She meant the remark to be lighthearted but Logan's pained smile told her it had come out harsher than she meant.

He held her gaze for another second, but then ducked his head down, picking at invisible threads on the seat cushion. "I couldn't be around you knowing you didn't want what I wanted."

"I really wish you had been there." She still didn't know how much she should share with him. Her heart couldn't seem to decide what it actually wanted, and her head, usually so helpful, wasn't contributing anything worthwhile to the conversation.

She watched Logan find an actual loose thread and wrap it around his finger, pulling it taught and then ripping it from the cushion.

_What if this is the one time we want different things? _

This was a Logan she hadn't seen in a while: unsure of what to say and even more unsure of what to do with his hands. He kept shooting quick glances to the door, back to her, and then down to his hands. She scrunched her brow, uncertain why his eyes continued that pattern. The door. Her face. His hands.

She scooted an inch closer to him and his body tensed as the hem of her dress entered his peripheral vision. They both sat with one foot curled under their bodies, the other hanging off the side of the seat which caused their toes to bump as their legs swayed.

"After you moved to Chicago I called Wallace to ask about you." He sighed and kneaded his forehead with his hand. "He told me you were off-limits. He said that we could be friends, but that you were his best friend and until you came out and told him what was going on between us, he wasn't going to talk about it."

Her focus was still on the erratic nature of his glance and it took her a second longer than it should have to respond.

"This is probably one of those situations where it would have paid off to have a less loyal best friend." She reached into the box and pulled out the Pablo Neruda card. "I sent this one as a last ditch effort to let you know the door was still open. That I still wanted you."

He took the card from her, his eyes shooting to the door once more, and read the quote. "And I thought it was your way of saying you were giving up. That it was too intense."

"But you kept it."

"Glutton for punishment, remember?"

Veronica tried to laugh, but her voice wasn't cooperating and it came out as a weary half-sob. He still wasn't looking at her. His eyes again focused on his damn hands.

He shifted back so their toes no longer touched, and swung his legs around so they were both flat on the floor. His shoulders were hunched and he kept idly flipping the postcard over, reading first the quote, then her note on the other side: 'My dad can give you my new address.'

He was looking at her from his periphery, and despite the fact that he wasn't moving away, it felt like he was trying to put distance between the two of them. It was when she shifted in her seat and the action caused Logan to sit up straight and look at her with an almost panicked expression that she figured out what was going on.

_He expects me to stand up and walk out. _

The only way to prove him wrong was for her to stick this out.

"The odds were really against us on this one, weren't they?" he mused, repeatedly dog earring one small corner of the postcard and then flattening it back out.

She ducked her head down to try and meet his eyes. When she didn't speak right away, he seemed to get the hint and looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean between junior and senior year we mailed dozens of postcards. Of course it wasn't a quote by Dickens that got lost in the mail. No, it had to be my letter. Cue ridiculous domino effect."

While she had brought the evidence about her stalker with her, she had set aside any intention of actually filling Logan in about that part of her life when the events in his office unfolded as they did. Veronica shook her head, and placed the postcards and the letter back in the box, hoping he'd settle for a minimal amount of information. At least for the moment.

"I don't think your letter got lost in the mail." She attempted to deliver that piece of information with ease, but wasn't surprised when Logan reacted strongly.

He tossed the card he held back into the box and rotated his body to face her again. "What the hell happened to it then?"

She swallowed and looked up at him. "I think it was taken before I could read it."

_Not too many questions tonight, please. _

She mentally repeated the plea, willing Logan to understand she was reticent to give all the details. It was clear from the way Logan jumped off the bench seat and started pacing back and forth that his emotional antennae was not finely tuned at the moment.

"What the fuck, Veronica? Who was it? Alison?"

"It wasn't Alison. She wouldn't have done that." She toed the thread that Logan had tossed on the ground. "She knew how I felt."

_Or, rather, how I feel. Present tense._

"Then, who?"

She looked up at him and almost smiled at the look of despair on his face. He seemed as devastated by the catalogue of newly discovered facts as she was. The difference was it was plain on his face, while she was still able to keep some of hers well hidden.

"It's a theory I'm working on. I'll let you know soon." Logan frowned and looked like he was about to argue. "I promise. I'll tell you soon."

He exhaled a heavy breath, laced his fingers together and cradled the back of his head with his hands. His pacing had slowed, but he was still in constant motion.

The tight embrace he had wrapped her in when she had tried to leave was the only time he had intentionally touched her while in his office, and he didn't seem to have any intention of repeating the action. Consciously or not he kept inching away from her.

She stood up, uncertain if she intended to move closer to him or further away.

When she stood his eyes went up to the ceiling, as if instructions for how the rest of their interaction was supposed to transpire were written above him. She almost looked up as well, hoping for inspiration of her own.

"We're idiots," he said. "Leave it to us to let the US postal system screw us over."

She laughed, although not from any actual amusement. There was more distance between the two of them now than when there were still secrets hidden. It all provided more evidence for her long held theory that some people couldn't handle all the facts.

"It's really kind of embarrassing," she said, choosing to stay rooted to her spot. "We could have called. We could have made Mac or Wallace spill. Our antiquated mating rituals really did us in this time."

He smirked and she almost breathed a sigh of relief at the way his face relaxed. But then her face got hot when she realized the implication of what she said. "I just meant -"

Logan laughed and interrupted her attempt to backpedal. "They didn't do us in. Just prolonged the foreplay."

She must really be losing it for an offhanded comment to almost cause her to burst into tears.

_If he doesn't actually mean that, I'm going to kill him. _

It could have been her acknowledgment that more had been interrupted by his missing letter than correspondence between friends. Or, maybe it was that she was still standing in the room despite her obvious discomfort. But in that moment, something caused Logan to stop putting distance between the two of them. His eyes now focused on her and they didn't waver.

He moved closer, but rather than hugging her or touching her skin, he twirled the hair of one of her pigtails around his finger. "I like the pigtails. Reminds me of high school."

She observed the way he continued to play with her hair and looked up at him. Taking a deep breath, she moved her head just enough to cause her hair to slip out from Logan's grip. "Why didn't you come to LA? When I didn't respond, I mean. Why didn't you show up and demand an answer?"

Logan let a puff of air escape his lips and wrinkled his brow at her. He didn't answer right away, but reached up to run a strand of her hair through his fingers. The casual intimacy of the gesture overwhelmed her.

"Knowing everything I do now, I wish I would have, but I spent the three years you were in LA trying to prove to myself I was good enough for you. Making myself someone I thought you might love again one day." He dropped the strand of hair and it tickled her shoulder where it fell. "When, at the end of that, you still didn't seem to want what I offered, I didn't know what else to do. I had to move on."

Her face fell for a moment, but then she eased it into an expression of calm. That was it. What she had told her dad two days prior was true. She had missed her window, and Logan had moved on.

He brushed the hair off her shoulder, and rested his hand there for a moment. The heat from his palm radiated from where he touched and spread down her arm. Something wasn't lining up the way it was supposed to.

If he had really moved on, then what were they doing standing so close?

"But you've been you since I've been here." She looked to the bit of skin he had just touched for emphasis, and then back at his face.

_Little touches. Flirty comments. Longing looks. The whole Logan Echolls package._

He rubbed the back of his own neck and then gave a little shrug. "I didn't say I was good at moving on. I tried, even came close a few times."

Out of his line of sight, she reached out her hand to grasp his. "I tried too."

She turned her attention to Logan's hand, which she grabbed by taking a tentative hold of his middle finger. She looked up to find him staring at her. He noticeably swallowed, but didn't make any move to either hold her hand or move his away, so she slowly inched her fingers up his palm and let them rest there.

There was absolutely no reason that simply touching fingers should cause one's breath to quicken, but her action seemed to have that effect on both of them.

"What would you have said?" Logan asked. His voice was low and all of his attention was on their not quite clasped hands.

"To what?"

She slid her fingers down his palm and rotated her hand so their fingers were lined up. All he needed to do now to hold her hand was to spread the fingers of his hand half an inch, and they would effortlessly fall together. As much as she liked to be in control, she needed him to take that step. To show her that this wasn't just her own wish fulfillment. That he still wanted her.

"In my letter I said I wanted to move to Chicago when you started med school. That I wanted to be with you. If you had read it, what would you have said?"

She prepared herself for his reaction to the sting of what she was about to confess. "I don't know, Logan."

Rather than drop her hand, he chose that moment to hold hers tightly, and she filed the moment away as a memory to relish. She had expressed uncertainty, but he hadn't been repelled by it. That fact alone made the task of saying everything else she needed to less arduous.

"I can't tell you what Veronica two years ago would have said, but I know she would have wanted the chance to figure it out with you."

She felt him relax slightly, his attention still on their hands. "What about Veronica now? If I said I was still in love with you. That I've read that letter you sent more times than I care to admit, and that I hope you still feel the same." He raised their hands and kissed her knuckles. "If I said that I would pick up tomorrow and move to Chicago to be with you, what would you say?"

She tried to maintain an indifferent expression, but she could feel the corners of her mouth tugging up into a small smile. His words had caused an overwhelming amount of relief to wash over her, but it was unlike any relief she had ever felt before. Rather than bringing a sense of calm, it caused her body to burn hot with anticipation.

She had always hated that damned Colbie Caillat song, but she did in fact feel bubbly all the way to her toes.

She put her free hand in the pocket of her dress and began to drum her fingers on her thigh. A move she had picked up from Logan. "Is this a hypothetical?"

"No."

"Then, I'd probably have to say, I don't know." He nodded and tugged lightly on their clasped hands to bring her an inch closer.

_Of course, now that I need distance to think, he brings me close. _

"Logan, we can't pretend the past two years haven't happened. I mean, both of us let the other person walk away." The drumming of her fingers picked up speed as she spit the words out. "But, I want the chance to figure it out."

They were such simple words, but their impact on Logan was startling. He let out a huge sigh, his entire body noticeably relaxed, and a large grin broke out across his face.

"Me too."

There was more they needed to say. She wanted to tell him about Skyler. Maybe let him know that she had been in therapy too, but the way he was smiling at her made it near impossible for her to broach any subject with even mildly negative overtones. Those things would keep.

"What are you smiling at, Echolls?" To her ears, it sounded less like she was speaking and more like she was laughing.

"You. You make me happy."

She raised an eyebrow as she creased her forehead, her look incredulous.

He laughed. "Okay, most days you make me happy."

She threw her head back with a laugh and didn't notice his free hand had moved until it came to rest on her shoulder. The new sensation of touch prompted her to bring her focus back to him.

"So, it's you and me, figuring this out together?" She was momentarily embarrassed by how vulnerable she sounded, but Logan's enthusiastic nod as a response told her it was the right question to ask.

She took a deep breath and Logan's expression transformed to one of intense study as he inspected the way his five fingers and palm connected with her shoulder. She looked up at him and frowned in mild confusion.

_What is he thinking?_

Slowly, Logan ran his short fingernails along her shoulder blade and down her upper arm. She knew he could see the way his action caused goosebumps to break out on her skin and she took another breath to calm herself.

She looked at him and kissed the knuckles of his hand which she still held, repeating his earlier gesture. Instead of dropping their hands, she moved his to rest on her other shoulder and looked up at him. It was both a challenge and an invitation.

He pressed down with light pressure, and then drifted his fingertips across her collarbone and back around to her shoulder blade. She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself enjoy the sensation.

_I remember this. Moving on probably would have been a lot easier if I hadn't._

He let out a slow breath, pressed his forehead to hers, and then pulled back. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at her. Veronica's breath hitched when she realized what was coming and she fought like hell to keep her eyes open.

_I know that face. That's Logan's 'prelude to a kiss' face. _

She wanted this. She wanted to be pressed up against his chest. She wanted to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. But, what she really wanted was for him to move things along a little more quickly.

She stood there, her skin buzzing everywhere Logan touched, and she waited.

After ten seconds of measured breathing she realized he had no intention of moving quickly. When another fifteen passed, it became clear he actually wasn't going to make any move at all.

He touched his forehead to hers again, planted a light kiss there, and then slid his hands along her arms until they found her hands. He held both of them against his chest for a few seconds and then stepped back.

"We should go out to the party. Our time has been up for a while now." He wasn't even looking at her anymore. Instead his eyes were focused over her shoulder.

As soon as she could speak again she was going to launch into a rant that was laced with so much fury that he'd feel the aftershocks well past Christmas and into the New Year.

Veronica didn't try to hide the annoyance at this radical shift, and rolled her eyes as she took her hands out of his grasp. "Yup, let's go do that. Sounds like fun." She shook her head at him and stepped away to collect her shoes from where they sat near the bench seat.

_Great to see his brand of dumbass hasn't been discontinued. It's just been repackaged so I almost didn't recognize it. _

He groaned, and she heard him breathe out the word "Shit" as she put on her shoes and moved towards the door. Then just like the last time she had tried to leave his office, he moved to stand in front of her, only this time his hands rested on her waist.

She looked from his hands to his face and quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he could read the words 'Fuck You' in the way she stared him down.

The single burst of laughter he let out told her he more or less understood.

"Guess I'm sending some mixed signals, huh?" He tightened his grip on her waist and while she didn't move away, she crossed her arms across her chest to close herself off to him.

She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to let loose a litany of insults and expletives that only he ever seemed to inspire.

He laughed again and preemptively interrupted her. "Veronica, it's pretty simple. If I start kissing you right now, I'm not going to want to stop. And there are five teenage girls less than three hundred feet from us that could come inside at any moment."

That she wasn't expecting. And while it was an admission that he had some decidedly indecent intentions, there was also an element of sweetness that she was moved by. She smiled and shook her head at him, this time with more admiration and less annoyance. She put a finger to her mouth and tapped her lips a few times, thinking.

"Is holding hands okay?" she asked, and moved her hands to where his still rested on her waist.

He blew out a puff of air, in what she assumed was relief, and nodded. He pivoted so they stood side by side, and took hold of her hand, placing a kiss on her wrist.

_Hello contentment, my old friend. Where have you been?_

She smiled and held in a small sigh she wanted to let out. No need to let him know just how much he affected her. "And I've mentioned responsible Logan is sexy, right? Because that's still true."

_Dammit. I said that out loud. _

She was surprised that her admission wasn't met with a smirk and waggle of his eyebrows. Instead he rolled his eyes skyward as they walked out of his office and then kissed her temple.

"I can probably get them out of here in twenty minutes, thirty tops."

"You can try." When they reached the patio, Heather was the first to spot them, and her eyes immediately went to their hands. She screamed and jumped off the ledge of the pool she was sitting on, and into the water to swim to the opposite edge where Logan and Veronica were standing. "But I think Heather has other plans."

Logan looked helpless as Heather climbed out of the pool, a stream of water following her as she kept repeating, "No frickin' way," and came to stand in front of them.

She grabbed their hands and inspected the way they held on to one another. "Ohmigod!" She screamed the words and then launched herself at Logan, giving him a sopping wet hug.

Heather let go of Logan, and took Veronica's free hand and pulled her away from him. "Veronica, I want my friends to meet you. And then you're going to tell me about how you and Logan got back together. And I need your advice on who I should invite to Sadie Hawkin's next month."

Veronica looked over her shoulder at Logan, and he just shrugged taking a few steps back in the direction of the kitchen, a smile on his face. She returned the smile and took a breath. She used to be a teenage girl; she could do this.

* * *

After dinner, Heather and her friends sat in the hot tub, drank virgin margaritas, and giggled nonstop. Logan and Veronica were stretched out on a lounge chair, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, drinking the alcoholic version of the same beverage the girls had. After a particularly loud burst of laughter from the hot tub, Veronica turned her face to look at Logan.

"You sure the margaritas you gave them don't have any alcohol?'

"You kidding me? You think I'd let a bunch of 16 year olds drink?"

Veronica laughed and sat her drink down on the ground. "We did."

"Yeah, but I also had sex as a 16 year old and Heather's not having sex until she's at least 25. We've discussed it."

"I'm sure that went over well." She snuggled into his side and took a small breath in, trying to imprint and catalogue the ways he smelled both the same and different from the last time they had been this close. "We're not even 25. Should we wait to have sex again until we are?"

He flicked her nose and she crinkled it at him. "The difference is I want to defile you." He gestured at Heather with his free arm. "I want to put her in a human size hamster ball."

"Used to be a time when you wanted to buy one of those for me too."

"Still do, but I'd make sure it was roomy enough for me to have plenty of space to defile you."

_Never thought I'd see a day where hamster balls became sexy. _

"There's a concept for a nightclub in there somewhere."

She began rubbing small circles on Logan's stomach, a move he used to like quite a bit, and something he apparently still enjoyed, if the way his breath hitched was any indication.

Veronica wasn't entirely certain what they were doing. She knew in the physical sense they were lying on a chair together, bantering at Logan's house. Her confusion came from the fact that a few hours prior she had come to Logan's to get answers about their relationship that she had assumed would lead to them parting ways amicably.

There was no permutation of answers that she'd thought Logan could give that would lead to the two of them lying poolside, with Logan nobly trying to keep the arm behind her from touching her ass.

_I kind of thought this torch I was carrying around would be properly extinguished by the end of the night. _

She usually hated being wrong. But if being wrong meant she got to be pressed up close enough to Logan so that she'd leave his house with the scent of his cologne on her skin, then she figured she could get used to the idea.

"Uncle Logan!" Heather called out to him as she got out of the hot tub. "You still have Ben and Jerry's left from our movie night?"

"In the house, but if you drip on my floor…."

"I know, I know, they'll never find the body."

Veronica sat up and crossed her legs under her. "She calls you 'Uncle Logan'?"

He sat up too, and turned her around to sit in the space between his legs so he could wrap his arms around her waist. "Telling people she was the little sister of my friend's ex-wife made them look at me like I was Woody Allen. They seem to be able to get their heads around uncle."

Veronica watched as Heather ran out of Logan's house, holding five spoons and two pints of ice cream and got back in the hot tub. She opened both pints, handed out the spoons, and the girls passed the ice cream around in a circle.

Logan placed a kiss on Veronica's shoulder and mumbled into her skin. She wondered if he was even aware of how close they were now sitting.

_Seems like the margaritas he's had has lowered his inhibitions just enough to want to cuddle. Totally cool with it._

"What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know how Aaron did it," he repeated, and she felt her body tense at the change in subject.

She looked back at him and then followed his gaze to the hot tub. "Lilly was Heather's age when Aaron -" His voice trailed off and he continued to place kisses on her shoulder. Some were quick pecks while a few lingered. She knew he was trying to provide them both with comfort as he spoke. "I know we all acted like we were grownups but, fuck Veronica. She was just a kid."

Logan buried his head in her shoulder and breathed deeply. It had been years since she had really talked about what Aaron had done. She had gotten close with Joanna, skirting over the specifics to talk about residual feelings of loss she felt with Lilly, but hadn't allowed herself to go there yet. It surprised her the way hearing the two syllables of his name made her feel nauseous.

"We were all just kids, Logan. And we dealt with some twisted stuff. The fact that you and I are here, semi-functioning members of society, is a miracle, honestly."

"Well, you had your dad. There's no way he would have let you screw up your life."

_I came quite close a few times. _

She leaned back into his chest and placed her hands over his. She hated being reminded of exactly how much of life he had done on his own, without any support. "You didn't screw up your life either."

His silence told her he didn't quite believe her.

"I visited his grave a couple months ago." He tightened his grip around her waist and Veronica sucked in a breath. "It was Lilly's anniversary."

"Why'd you go?"

He shrugged, and while that gesture sometimes came off as dismissive, she knew that in this case he honestly didn't know.

"When I got there, I just started screaming at him. I made my way to the caretaker's shed, and found a shovel and a hammer. Aaron's fans have planted flowers over the years and I ripped them all up. I bashed in the front of his grave marker and didn't stop until I started to chip away at the stone. I got home that night and drank until I passed out. The cemetery called me the next day to tell me his plot had been defiled and I just laughed."

He let go of Veronica's waist and slid back to put distance between the two of them. "Some things really don't change, right?"

_Note to self. Margaritas also put Logan in self-loathing mode. _

Veronica turned around so she was facing him and put a hand to his chest. She wanted to avoid any platitudes that would come off as trite, but wasn't certain exactly what he needed. Their intimacy was a little rusty. She took a deep breath and put her other hand over his heart, feeling the rhythm under her palm.

"You're not perfect, Logan. Think about just how badly that night could have gone." She reached up and lifted his chin so he looked her in the eye as she spoke. "You could have driven drunk, you could have beat someone up. Considering the options, you did pretty good."

He looked away from her, but a small smile ghosted his lips. Seeing the way he listened, and actually seemed to hear her, made her breathe a little easier.

_Oh my god. We're actually doing this. _

His smile grew when she picked up his hands and put them back on her waist. "I like your hands better here," she explained, giving him a little shrug.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose and hugged her close to him.

"Kissing still not allowed?"

This had to have been the most amount of time they had ever gone between reconciling and making out. While she was impressed by his self-control, she was also starting to worry that his restraint was an indication that his feelings had cooled.

He looked over her shoulder at the girls nearby. "I don't think it's a good idea," he said, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

She wondered if he realized how his words and his actions didn't quite line up. He had now kissed her on her temple, her nose, her shoulder, and cheek. His resolve was definitely weakening.

"You're wrong. I think it's a very good idea." She moved her hands under the edge of his t-shirt and ran her fingernails lightly on the skin of his lower back, certain that she wasn't going to let it go further with a hot tub of teenage girls nearby, but enjoying Logan's reactions all the same.

And if it got him riled up enough so that he kissed her senseless the moment the girls left, so be it.

"Veronica…"

A giggle a little too close to their lounge chair and Heather's voice interrupted them. "Uncle Logan, can you stop groping Veronica long enough to help me set up a movie downstairs?"

Veronica laughed and tilted her head up to whisper in his ear. "If she thinks this qualifies as groping, she really is nothing like you as a teenager."

He smirked at her and pulled far enough away from Veronica to look at Heather. "What time is it?" Heather shrugged, so Veronica pulled out her cell phone and showed Logan that it was just after 9:30 PM. "No movie tonight. It's too late and you all need to get home."

"You're just showing off because Veronica is here. But fine, we'll go. We'll use my room to change." She waved her friends out of the hot tub and they came out one by one, waving at Veronica and Logan and giggling as they ran inside.

Once they got off the lounge chair, Veronica headed straight to the kitchen to give Logan privacy as he played the protective uncle role.

She opened the fridge and found a large pitcher of cold water and poured herself a glass. While she was 95% sober, she wanted to get to at least 97% before heading home. She sat on a stool at the island in Logan's kitchen, drinking her water, and swinging her legs back and forth.

_This feels good, and right, and damn comfortable. _

Before the door closed behind the girls, she heard Heather ask Logan, "Where's Veronica?"

Seconds later Heather was running into the kitchen and pulling Veronica into a messy hug, her arms pinned at her sides. The move startled her, but as Heather gripped her tighter, Veronica found herself touched by her sincerity.

"You okay, Heather?"

"I like it when you're together. He's more him when you're together."

She didn't know why Heather was so certain her words were true. She and Logan hadn't ever dated during the time Heather was in his life, but her tone didn't waver, and Veronica knew she believed the words she spoke.

"Can we hang out when you're in town?" Heather asked, pulling back from the hug.

"Like I'm going to deny Logan's best girl anything." Heather beamed at the compliment. "You have my number. Call me anytime."

Veronica stood up to give Heather a real hug and spoke in her ear. "I'm more me when we're together too."

_Snarkier. Sometimes moodier. But most certainly more myself. _

Heather pulled back and grinned at Veronica and then walked out of the kitchen, passing Logan as she did. He held up his hand for a high five, which she responded to immediately, and Veronica laughed as their hands effortlessly connected in a blind low five behind their backs.

Earlier in the evening, watching that silly gesture that bespoke of how well Heather and Logan knew each other, would have only made her aware of how much of Logan's life was closed off to her. But now, while she still didn't know it all, Logan was inviting her back in.

"Lock the door behind you," Logan called out over his shoulder.

"Do I look dumb to you?" Another burst of giggles, and then Veronica heard the door close and lock.

"She has her own key?"

Logan shrugged and walked over to the freezer, pulling out another pint of ice cream. He grabbed two spoons from the drawer and then held the pint out to Veronica.

She wondered if all those years ago she had made him a Chunky Monkey fan, or if he had bought the ice cream for her, knowing she was coming over. When Logan noticed her perusal of the pint and gave a little self-deprecating shrug, she knew it was the latter.

"The blue room is practically hers. And her mom remarried to a real douche, so she stays over from time to time. If she stays over on a weeknight, I have to leave for work before she goes to school. It seemed easier."

He leaned over to take a bite of ice cream and then put his spoon on the counter. "I have to go get something from my office. Save me some ice cream."

Veronica already had a large spoonful in her mouth and she fluttered her eyelashes at him, but didn't say anything.

When he left the kitchen she swore to herself that she absolutely would not time how long it took for him to get back, but when she heard the door to his office open and close and her mental stopwatch hit 22 seconds, she groaned.

_So much for playing it cool. _

* * *

Logan closed the office door behind him and took a deep breath.

_Holy shit._

Those two words seemed to be on a repeated loop in his brain. The loop started the moment the final pieces of information came together regarding what had actually happened between him and Veronica. It sped up a frightening amount when she started touching him by the pool. And now it seemed to be backed up by the kind of music they played in movie trailers for fantasy films. It was all operatic vocals, driving rhythms, and timpani drums.

He couldn't seem to convince himself to just enjoy the moment. No, he had to go and let his damn insecurity convince him that Murphy's Law was going to get the last word in this whole scenario.

His reconciliation with Veronica was just a sneaky way for the world to convince him it was on his side before it fucked him over.

He sat down at his computer and began searching through files, clicking on absurdly titled document names.

Mac hated his old filing system, but he had insisted that naming them in such a unique way would ensure he would always remember the contents. It hadn't worked. He had spent a considerable amount of time renaming many of them, but there were still hundreds left to sort.

After clicking on one titled 'Clichés and other b.s.' that ended up being an e.e. cummings poem he read at a friend's wedding, and another titled 'Go ahead, waste your life' that was a list of books and movies he intended to buy one day, he almost gave up.

But then he found a document titled 'Obligations, pacts, and pledges' in a file labeled 'Misc.'. All synonyms for the word 'promises.' Damn him for being a sentimental, masochistic fool.

He double clicked on the document and his eyes scanned the five pages of single spaced writing. He had expected to feel embarrassed as he read over the words he originally penned close to two years prior. He hadn't expected for so many of them to still ring true.

_I don't know whether to be pissed it took us this long to figure things out, or just grateful we finally did._

He was pretty sure that exact thought had flitted through his mind whilst they were in his office earlier.

_I can't date you casually. I can't see just see where things go. If we kiss again, I'm a goner, and I can't be a goner when you're not even aware of what you're signing up for._

Okay, that was admittedly a touch melodramatic, but he could still stand behind the intended meaning.

It hit him then that Veronica was still unaware of everything he had put on the line all those months ago. Before they went any further, he needed her to know.

He printed off a copy of the letter and folded it in half, slipping it into his back pocket. While some of what he had written sounded like it was from the mind of a goth kid who had been given his very first feelings journal, he still wanted her to read it.

And now all he had to do was go out to where Veronica was sitting and convince her to slow down their reunion.

_Holy shit. She's going to kill me._

* * *

When Logan finally came back into the kitchen, Veronica was licking her spoon clean. She smirked at the dramatic double take he gave her when he saw she had eaten more than half of the pint. "You've known me since I was 12. This surprises you?"

_It also serves you right for being gone 384 seconds._

He sat on the stool next to hers and took the pint away. Rather than fight him for the ice cream, she placed her spoon on the counter and angled her body towards him, scooting her stool a couple inches closer.

She frowned when she saw his jaw tense just the slightest amount. Something had changed in the time he had gone into his office, but she decided not to spend too much time mulling it over, and instead went for their tried and true method of reconciling. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his neck, smiling against his skin.

_I think I'm making him nervous. God, that shouldn't make me as happy as it does._

She placed another kiss on his neck and Logan swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. It didn't escape her notice that it seemed to take a little more effort than it should. She kicked her flip flops off her feet and ran one foot up and down Logan's bare calf, and then pressed her lips to his neck a third time. Logan jumped off his stool and took several steps back, his spoon clattering to the ground as he did.

_Okay, that hurts a little. _

"What's wrong?" She understood needing to keep it PG with the girls around, but now it was just the two of them.

"Nothing - I just - I just need to give you something, and you're distracting me." He picked up his spoon and placed it on the countertop, then pulled out a stack of papers from his back pocket, and held them out to her.

She took it with a creased forehead. "What's this?"

"It's the letter I wrote you."

Veronica's eyes went wide when she realized what she was holding. They went even wider when she unfolded the pages and saw just how much he had written.

As her eyes drifted from the letter to his face, Logan shrugged. A faint blush warmed the apples of his cheeks and he tugged at the edge of his sleeves. "I had a lot I wanted to say."

She nodded and set it down on the countertop, trailing her fingers across the granite as she walked to stand in front of him.

He looked at her and pointed at the letter. "Don't you want to read that?"

She smiled and moved closer to him. "I'll read it when I get home." Standing in front of him, she pressed her hands to his chest. "So, it's just you and me now."

Now that she knew why he had been acting so strange, she was sure he was just as eager as she was to eliminate the distance between them.

Logan swallowed and nodded. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his elbows slightly bent, but not enough to bring her close.

She slid her arms around his waist as she took a deep breath. They were four hours into their reconciliation, and in the past he would have already had her pinned up against a wall, kissing as much of her skin as he could reach. She was a little confused as to why he was working so hard to stay in control of the situation.

He kissed the top of her head, but didn't make any effort to pull her closer, so she repeated her actions poolside, slipping her hands under his shirt and running her fingernails along his lower back. She was barely touching his skin, but it was as if his back was charged, shooting sensation into her fingertips and through the rest of her body.

_Let's see him try and maintain control now. _

If he didn't make a move soon, she was going to snap with the tension his restraint was causing.

_How can he be so damn calm? _

"Veronica –"

"That's me," she said, rising up on her toes and placing a kiss onto his Adam's apple. When she saw the way he swallowed and raised his eyes upward she chuckled. It was all a façade. He wasn't nearly as collected as he appeared to be.

_Maybe he just needs a little push._

"You know, you could pull me closer. I wouldn't mind." She smiled up at him but then frowned when she noticed that his eyes were screwed shut. She gave a quick rap to his chest to get his attention. "You with me, Echolls?"

He looked down at her and grimaced. "Don't hate me."

"Has there ever been a conversation started that way that has ended well?" His words instantly made her anxious, and she wondered if he could hear the way her speech shook.

The familiar prick of tears was in the corner of her eye and she began to plan how she would backtrack in order to come out of this whole scenario unscathed. She took her hands out from under his shirt, but kept them firmly on his lower back.

She heard him mumble, what she assumed was an explanation, but his voice was so low she couldn't hear him.

"Come again?"

He groaned and looked down at her. "I think we should take things slow."

_I wasn't aware that this was fast._

She frowned as he put a few inches of distance between them.

"Duly noted." She dropped her arms from around his waist and backed up to give them even more space.

She silenced the timid voice inside her head that insisted she ask him what she did wrong. Screw that voice. Another voice piped up and told her to give him hell. Now _that_ voice she could get behind.

"I was kind of hoping for a kiss." She crossed her arms and shook her head when she saw how bereft he looked at their total loss of physical contact. "But, it's painfully obvious that's not going to happen." She tried to keep her tone even, but the way she sharply accented each syllable betrayed her.

Logan groaned and tried to respond, rather unsuccessfully, several times. His sentence ended up being a series of unrelated one syllable words. "Wait - I – could? – what? – shit." After uttering the expletive, he held his head in his hands.

If she hadn't been wound up from the potent mixture of confusion, anger and self-doubt, she would have found Logan's inability to string a coherent sentence together quite amusing.

He wiped his hands over his face and took a series of short staccato breaths, and then finally managed to get out half of an explanation. "I mean, it's only been four hours. Maybe we should take things –"

She put up a hand to stop him from continuing. "Slow. You said that already." She turned her back on him to collect her flip flops from where she had kicked them off, and slid them back on.

When she turned around, he looked at her with a pained expression and opened his mouth to speak again, but then snapped his jaw shut.

_When we dated I couldn't get him to shut up, and now he can't put two words together. _

It was taking every ounce of energy she had to make herself stay where she was. "What happened to 'I won't want to stop kissing you'?"

He took a step towards her and she shook her head to stop him. "Please don't touch me right now, Logan. You need to stay in that spot and tell me what the hell is going on." If the sharp tone of her words failed to communicate that this wasn't open for discussion, the expression on her face certainly did.

He took a step back and exhaled a heavy breath. "When I was looking for that letter, I started thinking – "

Veronica interrupted him. "And this train of thought led you to the conclusion that kissing me would be bad?" She shook her head with exasperation. "Boy, you sure know how to charm the ladies."

"Dammit, Veronica. You wanted me to explain, and I'm trying." He picked up the letter from the countertop and shuffled through the pages, holding it up for her to see. "Ridiculous length aside, there's a lot of things in here that I need you to know. Before anything else happens between us."

She frowned, trying to understand. "What else do I need to know? I told you I wanted this."

He folded the letter back up and slid it a few inches closer to her. "I just want to be sure about us before –"

She winced at Logan's words and looked around the room for a place to focus her eyes. Anywhere besides his face.

"Oh, god, Veronica. I - " He trailed off and rubbed a hand over his face.

Veronica's pursed her lips and nodded in false understanding. "I thought you were sure. Clearly that was my mistake."

He put out a hand to touch her arm, but seeing that he was too far away to do so without stepping closer, he stopped himself. He settled for drumming his fingers against his thigh.

He took a breath. "Look, you say you would have responded to my letter if you had gotten it two years ago, but how do you know that?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "Because I know, Logan. I know what I felt then."

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. He huffed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair.

"Dammit. I thought you knew that about me? If I want something, I go for it. Yes, there were times in the past when what I wanted was the worst thing for me, but those were my mistakes to make." She wrapped her arms around her waist to comfort herself and shot him a resolute glare. "And that isn't what is happening here. Screw you for thinking otherwise."

Logan's mouth was slightly agape as she spoke, but he tightened his expression into a grim smile. He closed his eyes and blew out a steady stream of air.

With his attention elsewhere, she rubbed her eyes, preemptively wiping away any tears that dared form. Part of her wanted to demand an apology, but the other part recognized his uncertainty had a lot more to do with him than it did with her.

_I feel like I've been two seconds away from losing it this entire conversation. _

Logan threw his head back and looked up at his kitchen ceiling, then down at her. She could see his nervous energy in the way he repeatedly rubbed the thumb and middle finger of one of his hands together. "Do you get where I'm coming from? At all?"

Despite her previous attempt to get rid of any evidence to the contrary, her eyes were watery.

"Sure. I get it." She wiped at them, settling her face into an expression of calm. "Do you get where I'm coming from?"

He nodded and stilled his hands, crossing his arms across his chest.

She grabbed the letter off the countertop, wanting nothing more than to rip it up, as if it was to blame for the way the evening had gone. The moment she got to her dad's house, she was going to camp out on the couch and watch _Kill Bill Vol. 1 _and _Vol. 2._

_No way Uma Thurman would stand for this shit._

She wanted to walk out now. But, Logan had already stopped her from leaving twice that day. It wasn't fair for him to keep her from going a third time.

She settled for picking the spoons up from the counter and throwing them in the sink. It was childish, but she enjoyed the way the noise startled him. "Can you walk me to my car, please?"

As she passed by, he grabbed her hand and brought her palm to his lips. If she had been quicker, she would have pulled her hand away before he could reach her. But ultimately she was thankful for the way the thick emotions of the evening had slowed her reaction time. He wasn't rejecting her.

His stare didn't waver as he spoke. "I am sure of you, I promise Veronica." He lowered his voice, and ran his thumb along her wrist. "I'm just not sure – do you really want to be with me?"

_There goes the myth that therapy fixes people. Looks like some of that insecurity is still there._

She took a finger of the hand he kissed and ran it along his jawline, meeting his sad eyes with her own, and making a decision while she did. She would give him as much damn time as he needed.

"I guess we're both still works in progress, huh?"

He nodded and touched his forehead to hers.

She saw him clench his hands to stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist, and while she craved more contact, she was touched by how hard he was trying.

They left the kitchen, their hands not quite touching, but occasionally brushing up against one another. He picked up her messenger bag from the entryway and held it for her as they walked to her car.

Logan opened the door and she slid into the front seat, but then turned so her legs still hung outside.

"Do you think this will go down in history as the worst reunion of all time, or do The Spice Girls still hold that honor?" She smiled and raised an eyebrow to let him know she was mostly joking.

He let out a small laugh. Just that little bit of levity released much of the tension between the two of them.

She tilted her head and raised her cheek up, inviting him to kiss her.

He smiled, placed a light kiss there, and then pulled back. "Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

She returned his smile and nodded. "Pick me up at 7:30?"

"See you then." He kissed her on the cheek again.

_It's not frantic makeup sex, but this is good too. _

This time when Logan pulled back from kissing her cheek, his brow was furrowed. She reached up and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows, prompting him to smile.

"You're not mad at me?" He brought his hand up to her cheek and hesitated before tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"My feelings are a little hurt. And, if we're still having this conversation thirty years from now, I'll be upset. But I can take things slow if that's what you need."

_Look at us actually being grown up instead of just playing at it._

Logan's rested his hand on her shoulder and she could feel him drumming his fingers lightly against her skin. She looked up to ask him what he was doing, but when she saw the look of concentration on his face, she thought maybe he was trying to memorize the feeling of her skin.

"Logan?" Her voice brought his focus back to her face. "I'll read the letter, and I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and moved back, allowing his fingers to slowly trail from her shoulder to her fingertips. "See you tomorrow."

She started the ignition and pulled out of his driveway, watching from her rearview mirror as his gate closed behind her. Maybe she'd just watch _Vol. 1_ when she got to her dad's. She'd save _Vol. 2_ for the next time Logan pissed her off.

She smiled as she drove. Knowing him, she'd probably get to watch it before the weekend was over.

* * *

**A/N 2: **This chapter was almost all written before I left for vacation, but I've been editing, doing major rewrites, and tweaking nonstop. I'm so glad I did! My beta, Scandalpants, did SO much to help me (including reading the whole flippin' thing twice this time, and twice before vacation). Also big thanks to ShanghaiLily who provided amazing concrit on an early version of the kitchen scene.

**A/N 3: **Hit me up with a review! Last chapter was my most reviewed of all time but I really believe we can all work together to break that record with this chapter :)


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